On Impulse

A light shimmering,

small fae glittering

standing there glistening.

A mystique figure sparkling.

 

The risers as a staircase

from Mount Olympus.

Descending it with such grace

of the god Janus.

 

Afraid to take thy hand

Too shy to take a stand.

Alas nothing was planned,

perhaps this'll be grand?

 

When darkness enclosed

you woke up the sun.

My author dream disclosed,

you smiled as a cinnamon bun.

 

Treading forth with drear

Knowing the future is near,

holding your hand dispels fear.

 

There you stand glistening,

your comfort I embrace.

As you do calculations - glittering,

I reach for my bookcase.

 

Floating as a nimbus

waiting for the tempus

you hold me dear on impulse.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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