yet never gain your side.
A thousand times compel your eyes,
may they in mine abide.
I stride to you with prideful steps,
and claim you for my own.
Yet dread the hour when he will come,
and take you to your home.
By your side and standing tall,
a mirror's imposition.
I see reflections as we sway,
and dream hypnotic rhythm.
A swirling step, a cadence strong;
the crowds who gaze admiring.
That vision girl, that dashing man;
they do belong together.
The beaus the rakes, they gather close,
and vie to see who steals you.
But you have eyes for me alone,
and sweet but firm you spurn them.
The dancing stilled, the music gone,
and all but we departed.
He stands there patient till the end,
"My girl let us be leaving."
although I've never left there.
To hope for dreams again tonight,
perhaps perchance to keep you.
Ignatius Writealot