A quick glance
Of her wrist watch and she knew,
He was there,
Had been there,
And by now wondered away,
Just walking
And talking
To whom ever was there too,
He’d find one,
Anyone,
That was just his friendly way.
A quick glance,
As she turned off the highway.

She called wanting to see him
To meet at the museum
At two she said it would be
And now it was almost three.
Her lateness didn’t worry him
Midst paintings European
Of tulips and Dutch windmills
Beauty from room to room fills,
Portraits of medieval men
Dead Masters of realism
And now it was after three.

Those meetings,
Binding her and taking time
Making late
For her date,
She turns in the parking lot
Hurries in
To see him,
Now somewhere for her to find,
Hall to hall
Searches all,
Hoping he has not forgot,
Those meetings
Causes turmoil to the mind.

The beauty of Claude Monet,
Can ease the sad thoughts away,
And the paintings of Rubens
Shows the beauty of women.
He’d sit on the benches there
Enthralled and reduced to stare
His mind to another place
Burdens gone without a trace.
Once seen he’d not want to go
After seeing what they show
Paintings ease the thoughts away.

She found him,
Sitting in quiet repose
So thoughtful
And peaceful
Mind lost in a bright fresco
Without sound
She sat down,
There on the bench he had chose,
With a glance,
Eyes meeting
They stood up as if to go,
She found him,
He asked “are you late again?”

Yes daddy.