Heading in opposite directions,
I saw her across the intersection.
The lights changed,
we both stepped into the street.
My eyes instantly locked onto her attractive pale oval face.
As she came closer our eyes met fleetingly.
She was captivating and unexpected.
After that first time I saw her
she became a recurring
dream.
And yet, we had not exchanged a word.
It was the light in her eyes that concentrated my attention.
They sparkled with mischief, fun, delight and joy of life.
They were irresistible.
I intuitively knew they were telling it true.
Despite never knowing it before,
I knew Immediately I had been looking for those eyes forever,
looking for the person behind them all my life.
And there they were,
passing me on the road,
disappearing as fast as they appeared,
part of a human wave heading home from work,
also irresistible.
I have heard people say the first thing they fell in love with
were their partner’s eyes.
Well, these were those eyes.
They spoke to me directly, urgently.
of being together,
telling me there was more I must learn here,
all the things I needed to know for the right future
were behind those rich brown eyes
with the big dark pupils of evening.
Just those two deep pools of enticement alone were enough.
They called on me to throw caution to the wind,
to surrender myself to the yearning,
to give up everything for her
And I would have right there and then too
had not we been separated
at the very same instant we didn’t meet.
Moved by the pressed bodies of a dense compacted throng
going one way and the other,
as we passed I turned trying find her,
earnestly scanning the back of
as many sombre grey hats, coats and heads as I could,
engaged in a process of rapid fire elimination
until I caught my foot on the curb and stumbled.
I looked again.
She was gone.
Every following evening I waited at that corner.
Enveloped in my own dark winter proof cladding.
Examining the crowds.
Scrutinising every office worker heading home to dinner.
Muffled and reserved.
I sought that same light, that one bright spark, that point of difference
in the fast fading dusk of shortening days.
My own hope fading
as each short day felt longer and lonelier.
It was on the same day of the next week
she reappeared.
A Thursday.
How could no one else be alert to her quiet warm aura,
gently glowing against a background of gloomy evensong,
the trudging of homeward bound feet.
I fell for her.
I mean literally.
I was so preoccupied with not losing sight of her
I darted across traffic and was bowled over at her feet.
She almost fell over me.
She quickly sidestepped,
bent over,
put out her hand
and pulled me up.
All in one graceful movement.
She saved me from a trampling
and alternate futures
I didn’t want to contemplate
We stepped out of the human tide
into a shopfront vestibule.
She asked if I was alright?
I wasn’t. I was so embarrassed
I couldn’t speak but,
she just smiled
she straightened my coat, looked
me up and down,
said “That’s better” and asked would I like a cup of tea?
Three hours later we were still at that little table for two in the Block Arcade café.
Those eyes told no lies.
poetography.ink 