The clock ticks nine and I head for the window
Another hopeful day, hopefully
Thuds of approaching footsteps down below
See her crossing the road skillfully
Jeans and top: the usual cosmopolitan expression
Cascading rivers of burgundy on top
Subtle traces of burnt sienna in her complexion
Arrested by beauty, my senses get locked up
Hellos of varying decibels compete within
Unable to surface as words for her ears
She walks past below, next to the local inn
Intoxicated, I stand with love in arrears
She’s a beauty with pronounced contours
I lean forward as she walks away friskily
Bathed in romance, I sharpen my arrows
And, nearly fall off the window clumsily
She looks up and sees an awkward me
As, I pretend to gaze at the bustles of the busy day
I turn my eyes on her again carefully
And, see her smile, then turn and walk away
Saw her the other day on the bus stop standing
As I was returning from work in a merry stroll
Kept glaring at her lost in mindful philandering
And, almost fell into the approaching manhole
I joined the cooking class and there she was
She turned out to be my tutor and I her student
She taught me the fine art of cooking laws
But, I only learned geometry: curves and tangent
She asked me to prepare a soup in a pan
And, turned around to guide the other pupils
Eyes fixed on her I emptied the whole oil can
And, lit myself instead of the lentils
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