will she come?

all evening he waited
anxiously eyeing the clock
retracing his steps
over and over
counting the minutes
until her arrival

kneeling before a crackling fire
adding another log
he rose to check again
his preparations for tonight

the thick sheepskin rug
lay lovingly spread before the flames
waiting for her

the book
the one she longed after
in that tiny shop downtown
rested on the warm stone hearth
waiting for her

his hand
stopped a moment
over his heart
and lovingly fingered
the prize there
hidden away in his pocket
where it lay
waiting for her

taking the ring
from its secret place
he gazed at it
mesmerized by its shine
by what it stood for
soon he smiled and
softly slipped it back
to its repose
where it lay
waiting for her

seating himself back on the chair
he resumed his vigil
over the fire
over the wine
over the clock
over himself

and he sat
quiet and lost in thought
waiting for her