Under the oak three eating his lunch he will always see her.

Her on the bench across the waterfall, eating her lunch,

Stealing glimpse of each other in secret

Talking to her I must, he exclaimed. Fright kept him at bay.

Tomorrow I will; he convinced himself.

Under the oak tree the following day, he arrived.

Waiting and hoping she will come.

Full of excitement, he was no longer interested in eating.

Time has elapsed and no sign of her.

Disappointed he became, despair he was not.

For he knows he will see her tomorrow.

Under the oak tree yet again he awaits for a chance to see her.

Played conversations in his head, were his allied and his foe.

I will talk to her today, he said, trying to subtract fear.

Days have elapsed, under the oak tree he sits and wait to catch sight of her.

Contemplating giving up, for he missed his opportunity to talk to her.

Under the oak tree once more eating his lunch with his eyes fixed towards the water fall, praying she will come.

A voice he heard from a distance behind him.

Excuse me! He was faraway; focusing on the water fall.

Excuse me! He heard once more.

He turned to answer and, to his amazement it was her.

Is this sit taken, she solicits?

Trying to articulate, he said no.

Anna is my name, she whispered.

I am Mel; as he ingests his lunch.

Excellent conversations flowed to no end.

Under the oak they congregate daily for lunch.