Helplessly hoping
Her harlequin hovers nearby
Awaiting a word
Gasping at glimpses
Of gentle true spirit
He runs, wishing he could fly
Only to trip at the sound of good-bye
Saturday morning and all is well. Keemun tea in my cup, humus, Kalamata olives and pita on my plate, and a song in my heart. Actually, the song I woke up with was "Marrakesh Express," which motivated the urge for humus, but then switched to "Helplessly Hoping" when I saw a photo of a young Bridget Bardot in a bikini...
Stitchawl