Anticipation – stomach knotted
Heartbeat with its dashes dotted
Pulse-rate sets cold hands aquiver
Hopes and dreams do not deliver
Soul from its internal scuffle
When cool and calm can’t help but ruffle
At the merest glimpse of hidden ardour
Thoughts that form their own armada
Bated breath and expectation
Love’s first taste of collaboration
All these things I long to feel
A reminder that such love is real
Ron
budd