Anyone else would have thought it a perfect evening,
The beautiful sunset…
The muted call of a bird,
Singing a few remaining refrains,
To end its day.
The hibiscus blooms closing,
After showering the world with their radiance,
Stamens centered in disks of color.
So peaceful…that he could hear his pulse.
But in all this calmness and beauty,
His mind and heart could not be stilled.
She was present in all,
Taking his attention,
Stealing his thoughts,
Robbing his very will to be here,
In the present.
He had no choice,
But to be captured by her,
Beyond his control.
Anyone else would say this temporal splendor,
Meant to paint the pastels of a perfect evening…
Was wrecked for him…
All by the incessant thoughts of her.
But in the peace, gone for most,
He was enrobed by the silk of her love,
The warmth of her smile…
And the one true thing that captured his soul.
The thought of him,
© 2017 W. C. Stacia, Jr.