The lone angel rests under the tree
with her auburn legs crossed
and a black journal on her lap.
She writes of the invigorating day
as it progresses past its midpoint.
She is absolutely stunning.
Her magnificent amber hair,
enrapturing hazel eyes,
and dazzling ivory smile
make her beauty overwhelming;
So overwhelming that I’m caught
in her inescapable paralysis.
My heart flings into my chest
like a racket ball hitting the wall.
My body tingles with the sentiment
of immense amorousness
as I sink into my castle in spain.
She looks over at me and analyzes
my dumbfounded presence.
Cursed by uncertainty, I tremble
and shrink down to four feet tall.
She attempts to harbor a snicker
as I tremble and shrink again...
this time to a lowly two feet tall!
Perhaps tomorrow I’ll be ready!
Because tomorrow I'll remember
not to drink coffee when I see her!
Michael Fischer
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lone-angel-under-the-tree/
