I can’t remember much of you.
Our encounter was something less
Than the twinkling of an eye.
Yet, what I felt for you remains a mystery—
The love of mystery, perhaps.
You marched yourself into my world, with a
“My name is…” you said so sweetly.
I was caught up into you—You took control
For that moment you held me
As we danced,
You were in command.
I pondered over your token—”Call me”
And your “I wish I’d come alone”
Need to be laid-to-rest line.
I allowed myself to be taken in again!
To be bowled over,
It all happened so fast.
I must draw deep
To remember your face.
Copyright © 1989 by Barbara Lewis. Reprinted with permission from Shelton Graphics.