You wax poetic ere you find the one
who lingers in your wisp of hopeful dreams,
that when he comes, your search for love is done
as he comes forth amidst your silent screams
of joy that when it seemed for you too late,
from aether regions of the vast unknown
there came the possibility — a mate
to love as you do love in ways your own.
For no one knows how, when, or where, or why
by Fate there comes that perfect entity
that sounds too good too pleasant for the eye
that sees beyond his mere mortality.
Can I be one who loves you as you say?
Let possibility turn CAN to Yes, you MAY.
