Though I suffer no obliging ache,
A pressure comes to bear,
Upon the very heart of me.
Sitting on a low stool,
Flooded by a sea of could be's,
I observe every little detailed sign.
Are you in the silences,
Or will you arrive in triumphant,
Harmonious sweet surrender ?
I wait happily here for you,
Knowing without doubt you'll come,
When the glittering jewels are aligned.
Though the weight, the anticipation
Lays heavy upon me this day,
I beg you come, I'll float away.