EACH DAY 2012

A MAN VIEWS A PORTRAIT IN A GALLERY EACH DAY IN 2012

Each day he goes
to the gallery
to see you.

Each day he stands
before your portrait
and gives stare,
glad to be there.

Your eyes stare at him
and he at yours.

Your flowing hair,
over shoulders,
your nose,
narrow and refined.

Your lips
he wants to kiss,
but others watch,
the gallery guardian
looks on,
so he gives
the kiss a miss.

He is jealous of those
who come and stare,
then walk on
without comment
or praise, nor gaze
that long
at beauty's gem.

He sits and gazes
and studies you
for hours on end.

Those lips.

Those  eyes.

He hates it when
some come between you
and him,
stand there gazing
at you with their
cameras or I pads
or phones, and their
soft word moans.

Each day he leaves you,
says farewell,
blows a kiss from palm.

Outside the gallery
it pours with rain.

Tomorrow he will
see you again.