A Sunday afternoon
Filled with possibilities,
The blue Cape Town skies radiant with beautiful possibilities,
The air is crisp, moving in tandem with a sweltering sun
The streets are bustling
The gardens in full bloom
Then I see her, her Zambian skin
What I can only presume,
in its mesmerizing splendour, as her face beams with sincerity,
Her smile sings a heavenly song through a dreamy gaze.
And time ceases instantaneously,
As I catch a glimpse,
Envisaging a future along the winding roads along a sunny cove,
Letting our hair down
Living carefreely
Together
But it's merely a glimpse, as her ravishing beauty remains my
silent outcry
Because I fail to disclose what lives true in my heart, and stay silent
And optimism sours to an irrevocable regret;
Not knowing what could've been.
A Sunday afternoon;
an early, pensive, rainy Tuesday morning
Under the sheets
Regrettably wondering about what could've been...
To the African lady I've seen, but never approached, to my regret: I hope the third time is a charm for when we do meet again. Maybe on a Sunday afternoon...