Somewhere a maiden sits by a stream Wondering if the water's safe to drink Maybe risking her perfect mahogany skin By dipping a graceful digit into the flow A gentle, kind, intelligent man Fresh from a day of answering phones Saving the rich from their Dell-dwelling dragons Catches sight of the girl through ribbons of smog What beauty he chokes to himself Calculating whether he might approach Knowing she'd most likely scream A girl can't be too cautious these days He doesn't move but furtively loiters Pretending to wait for friends he won't have Sneaking glances at the one he adores Before heading home to the game
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This work is Copyright (c) Mike Fletcher 2005