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"The Clock"
It was 1:33 and 55-seconds,
as I was looking up at the clock.
I felt her shadow pass right through me,
as she walked by blocking my view.
Still I continued to stare towards the clock,
as if I was still trying to figure out the time.
But I couldn't even fool myself,
I was totally entranced by this girl.
From the contrast of her pure white top,
riding against her dark Summer tan.
To the way her locks of hair,
rained down pond her shoulders,
playfully bouncing off her back,
as she weaved her way towards the door.
She hesitated,
as she started to put her fingers on the latch of the
wooden door.
Pausing,
as if she could feel my gaze,
roam across her.
She starts to turn towards me,
I become frozen from the anticipation,
of seeing her face.
She stops,
and begins to turn back towards the door,
pushing up against it with her shoulder,
her face never quite coming into view.
Light begins to stream in,
as she is slowly swallowed up,
by the bright noonday sun.
I wonder if her eyes were,
Blue or Brown.
Am I to be haunted by,
the memory of a face,
I never saw?
The second hand still sweeping,
across the face of the clock,
1:33 and 59 seconds...
Tom Allen...