Sitting on my stool sipping coffee
I hear those inconstant of tapping’s
By persistent drops against the glaze
As cool air chases through the screen
A steady trickle drips on a wooden sill
Condensation obscures the outer scene
Of what may be perceived as a picture
But more importantly- to me, the scent
There’s no misunderstanding its aroma
Or how it can whiplash my attention
My memory caught in a growing torrent
And my body beset in a stalled motion
While lucid yesterday’s start reforming
It was raining, pouring really that night
The local power was out except Pop’s
Just a small diner between two shops
That’s where I met her, as we took turns
Sharing a stool, coffee and drip drying
It seemed conducive right from the start
Small conversation, smiles, lost of time
I watched her lips moves as she spoke
Her words flowed like a fluent quiet river
And her tone was just as moving- freely
Feeling mesmerized I often apologized
As if I was having some trouble hearing
Her eyes were cobalt blue, and fluttery
Perhaps her eyelashes caused my trance
I think it was then, that solidified me- fully
The rain quit, as we exchanged numbers
Just prior to walking her to the doorway
I mentioned I loved the smell of fresh rain
Unexpectedly she answered it was hers too
In fact, it’s her current choice for perfume
I thought she was kidding, her eyes prove not
As they stare back without blinking a wink
Those were the moments love often defines
“falling at first sight” in a plethora of writings
I didn’t know it then; I do now, when it rains
I’m taken back to her, by pattering drops…on glass
Poet of the Light © 2018
Nice imagery and emotion – thanx for sharing.
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Thank you, glad you liked it.
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