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