What Comes of It

WHAT COMES OF IT

by Marj Hastings

I pursue. Pursuing more than is right. I’m told.
They’re the ones. Nice girls don’t. It’s much too bold.
What will he think if I say what I feel. Now I’ll try.
Just a word or two, but my mouth gets too dry.
My palms get too wet; my heart beats too fast.
Stumbling on simple words, the moment is past.
Tears. So many, so often and easily too,
But privately shed while carefully I pursue.
When will I see him again. I plan and plan.
But it must be soon Oh my heart, for this man.
My mind’s in confusion. My life’s in an uproar.
Something must be done for less or lots more.

Does he notice, I wonder. That’s the big bind,
He’s got a lot going on and business on his mind.
I try not to call, but there’s something to say,
Even if it’s only , “how was your day.”
Our talks may be long, he seems happy to hear,
Jokes about making love to his ice cold beer,
Or perhaps it’s an almond chocolate bar that night.
That one particularly sends me on an fanciful flight.
I skirt the implications like a teenage girl,
This is stupid at my age to be in such a whirl.
A merry-go-round. Did I say merry, it’s more remorse,
Hold on for life or crash from the centrifugal force.

I feel so let down when our talks are short,
How ever did I let him get the ball in his court.
Gently handle it please, that ball is my heart,
He’s able to break it or simply tear it all apart.
When I’m out of control, I’m under his spell,
Does he realize his power, it’s hard to tell.
He’s just too cool, yes even very cold, I think,
It drives me mad, simply crazy, right to the brink.
I wish for relief befoe something gives out,
My senses, all of them, daily I seriously doubt.
Every way I wish for an encouraging word,
And maybe there’s one, is that what I heard.

Ah, the trick of the ears can lead me far afield,
Imagined encouragement, my wishing will yield.
Yield what, it’s hopeless, a path to a dead end,
Dreaming of what it means to be close to this friend.
I meet him, warm greeting, he seems glad I’m there,
I feel tense, too nervous. Relax, I don’t care.
But care, yes I do. His broad smile make me glow,
He’s deep down great. Of course, he must know.
I blush. There;s heat in pursuit ambitiously made,
He thinks I’m pretty quiet, cross armed, just staid.
But what could he know at thei point in this chase,
I’ve led him to believe that I want distance and space.

Maybe I should toss off this conserved, “nice girl” stance, Vamp him, partnering in a fast-paced lovers’ dance.
Or bide my time, carefully inching my way to his heart.
Playing it out slowly, waiting, wanting his move to start.
But maybe it won’t, it will never happen, that’s it,
Of course, how blind I’ve been, now pieces of this fit,
His heart, already taken, he’s been pursuing her all along.
His love well hidden, yet his emotions are strong,
But blocked from my view since wanting his love sincerely,
I wouldn’t see what was before me from the start clearly,
I dread the thought. My mind and heart deny what is true. Resist, but must accept this possibility when women pursue.