Peter Gates

Meeting Annie

Met her in a shaded wood,

Raven hair, flaxen, waxen,

Over almond eyes, dark and bright.

Above unsmiling lips of red.

I pondered whether I could or would

Approach her, or even should.

 

Unsmiling, she

Stood alone there,

With almond eyes, raven hair

Head turned to me,

Red lips parted, still unsmiling,

Yet so beguiling.

 

And I there, smiling.