i am hiding away in the kitchen,
silently slipping pasta from the pot;
i am left to lurk in shadows as the
candlelight casts a glow upon two
lovers in the other room.

the violin creeps highly to climax as
rose petals are spread,
a path wound to the precise place
inside where they can fully enjoy
the evening

i try to stay silent as they
go about their meal, hoping
that i will not disturb what he
has worked so long for and what she
had suspected but not fully realized

as the music subsides, she
starts to understand what she
could not before and
he realizes that what he had
thought to be true was
more than he could believe;

yet neither will say a word as
i tiptoe silently out the door,
(violinist in tow)
unaware, perhaps
of my presence
(though i doubt i've gone undiscovered)
but, more likely,
of my longing.

05/14/2005

Posted on 05/15/2005
Copyright © 2024 Andrew S Adams