A moment of Love

A single day,
A single hour,
A single minute in which to say,
How much you've meant to me each and everyday.

Oh, what's a minute from an hour,
An hour from a single day,
It's but a fleeting part of life,
But one I'd love to share with you.

Oh, to gaze upon your pretty grace,
To take the image of your face,
To etch forever in my heart,
And recall from their it's every part.

Oh, to talk with you again,
About this, or that, and matter plain,
And perhaps to hold you close,
One day,perhaps, I hope...

Oh, to sit with you once more,
Perhaps to gaze across a shore,
And when the day is done,
We'll watch the setting of the sun.

And enveloped in cloaks of dark,
We'll sit and watch the mark,
Which through the sky shines bright,
With an everlastingly pure light.

Before we'd know it the night is done,
And though from us it's forever gone,
It will live forever on,
And be my dearest memory.

But sadly it could never be,
For there's another one for she,
But oh, how much I woulg give,
If only I were he.
---
(c) DJ 2005+
----
I seem to have a knack for falling in love with girls I couldn't possibly ever be with. It's an art.

This little poem is about the fantasy of, I suppose, a date with this girl. *sigh.*
---
Below is the first version of the above poem, which I enjoy more. It is here simply so I do not forget it - for my own personal satisfaction. Read on if you so wish. Nothing here is new.

A single day,
A single hour,
A single minute in which to say,
How much you've meant to me each and everyday.

Oh, to gaze upon your pretty grace,
To take the image of your face,
To etch forever in my heart,
And recall from their it's every part.

Oh, to sit with you once more,
Perhaps to gaze across a shore,
And when the day is done,
We'll watch the setting of the sun.

And enveloped in cloaks of dark,
We'll sit and watch the mark,
Which through the sky shines bright,
With an everlastingly pure light.

Before we'd know it the night is done,
And though from us it's forever gone,
It will live forever on,
And be my dearest memory.

(But sadly it could never be,
For there's another one for she,
But oh, how much I woulg give,
If only I were he.)