Here is a classic tale, or so it is meant to be,

About two friends, lovers? Quite possibly.

He was shy, the quiet sort of type,

Not like most other teens- rambunctious and so full of hype.

He wasn't quite a geek, nor a jock of the sort,

He wasn't that into books, and surely not into sports.

Instead he'd practically waste away his days,

Thinking, pondering of so many ways

He could catch the attention of the girl across the street.

How he longed to talk more, memories replay on how they first did meet.

It was a day simply like no other,

When he saw and helped her grocery-carrying mother.

The mom was grateful, and took the chance to talk,

Just as the girl was arriving back home from a short walk.

As she was walking inside, her mother introduced the boy,

Who was trembling as he said hi, being so very coy.

The girl seemed sweet, as she told him her name,

Boy, the boy thought, I must seem very lame.

However, that night, he dreamed about he and her,

She seemed perfect for him, he was so sure.

They both were quiet, sweet-seeming too,

But doubted, after all, their acquaintanceship was new.

He tried to avoid his continued thoughts about her,

But it seemed as if he's known her forever.

At school she carries on like he's just a kid she knows,

At home he wonders if he'd ever be able to sweep her off her toes.

Being a mere teen, he didn't know much about love,

So all he's learned is from movies, filled with hearts and pink, roses and doves.

One day as he was daydreaming, peering outside his window,

He sat upright quick, she saw him, and...winked? He may never know.

But if she really did, then he should then try again to catch her eye,

But how? After all, he's only a teenage guy.

He thought back to movie fairy tales some more,

Then finally decided, he would bring flowers to her door.

He had saved up from mowing lawns around the neighborhood,

And bought some of the prettiest flowers that he possibly could.

He had stolen a spritz of his dad's good cologne,

And dressed in attire fit for a king upon a worthy throne.

Quite opposite of a tedious task,

For this would bring glory in which he would bask.

He had rehearsed in the mirror just what he was to say,

Making sure that it would come out better than okay.

He felt nervous, with butterflies even guys can get,

But told himself to act with confidence, he must not fret.

He waltzed right across the street, and tapped upon the door,

Feeling proud of himself even more and more.

The door creaked open just a little bit,

And out peered the mom, who kept herself from having a fit.

Oh! My baby! You're here to speak to my baby!

She amazingly whispered with prideful ease.

He nodded with a discreet type of smile,

Perhaps all of this will most certainly prove worthwhile.

The mother had disappeared, and daughter took her place,

Upon seeing the boy, a cherry-red blush had filled her face.

She blinked with eyes that told him just what she wanted to say,

That he was sweet for doing all this for her today.

He handed her the flowers, and waited a little while,

For he was staring straight back at her, she was staring with her smile.

She took the flowers with a cautious handling grip,

The way she smiled at him, made him feel sharp as a whip.

She set the bouquet down upon the seat of her nearby chair,

Then took his hand in hers, she really did seem to care.

She took a closer step, then wrapped him in a hug,

He was just bitten by the sneaky love bug.

She looked at him for a second, then ended it with a kiss,

It was something memorable, thankful he didn't miss this.

The second seemed like eternity, it was so delicate and grand,

Sweetest gift from the sweetest girl, greatest in the lands.

After it was over, she squeezed his hand gently just one more time,

Thanked him and bid farewell with another peck, all he could do was sigh.

He smiled happily, a big grin on his face,

His heart had a new-found love to now take up some space.

He turned to head back home, but before entering into his house,

Looking back, he gazed at her smiling face, happy as a plump little mouse.

It was a chance he dared to take and was ever glad he did,

He had found young love, and now his fears had gone and hid.

When he walks her home, or just passes her on the street,

He thinks of her and counts his blessing that they did first meet.

Here is a classic tale, as it was meant to be,

About two friends, lovers? Very possibly.