David McLansky

(5/24/1944 / New York City)

(19) The White Ship


(19) Second Meeting

When beauty turns its head with favor
Heightening every sense to savor
Then touch and sight and smells and sighs
Yield every pleasure they devise.

I left the bank at lunch hour noon
To rush up to your Reading Room
I found you watching from your desk
That someone marked as their behest

Oh bird of love swift on your guard
You watched me running through the yard
The sun was glinting on the glass
You checking everyone who passed.

Your shameless joy at second meeting
Your brazen smile at second greeting
Gave this heart such surge of joy
It charmed far more than being coy.

Submitted: Friday, March 22, 2013
Edited: Friday, March 22, 2013
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