As pleasant chatter echoed from within the coffee shop
I lurched backward at the kick of a scorching cappuccino to my lips,
Clumsily sloshing a few spiteful drops onto the beechwood table.

Reaching sheepishly towards the nearest napkin,
My gaze fell inadvertently in the direction of a
Comely young woman sitting alone at a nearby table,
And I immediately became possessed by her presence.

My hands reached for my backpack in animation,
Fiddling with the zipper and unearthing a spiral notebook,
Flipping anxiously to a blank page on which to draw.
It became apparent that I discovered a muse.

With her hair hanging loosely in caramel curls,
The girl stared at her novel in placid fixation,
Delicately perusing each word in hopes of
Absorbing each ambiguous connotation.

My pencil scampered fervently while she flipped a page,
Dipped her little finger into her petite cup,
Mingling the whipped cream and murky coffee,  
And sampled her caffeine creation with a succinct sip.

Though I toiled with haste in fear that her attentive eyes might
Wander and spot me in my mad state of artistic enchantment,
I captured every angle and curvature of my subject in my notebook,  
Once finished, I could not help but be in awe of the masterpiece I’d created.

After a hearty slurp of my now tamed cappuccino,
I held my drawing up to compare it to my muse,
But to my astonishment, she had disappeared.
Dainty fingers tapped friskily on my shoulder.

“Well done,” the girl quipped, analyzing my work admiringly,
Then snatching the notebook from my quivering hands
And replacing it with a crumpled napkin on which she
Had scribbled down the digits of a telephone number.  

“See you this evening. Don’t be late!”