The Bus Stop
He woke up early that day; ‘twas still dark
Not knowing, ‘twill start a chain of events
That will alter his life; and light a spark—
Opening a flood of thrill-filled moments!
At the bus stop to school, long he waited
On a cold winter morning years ago
He’s fretful; just a bit agitated
A test that day; he’s hoping it would snow!
And the bus was late; he swore in silence
On a bench, he held a lit cigarette,
Reviewing what he learned, focus intense!
Suddenly, he saw what he’ll ne’er forget!
Through cigarette smoke and the morning mist
He saw a face, difficult to resist!
Her black wavy hair’s down to her shoulder
‘Twas her expressive eyes, an upturned nose;
And her full red lips; that drew him to her!
Her pleasant features, the outfit she chose...
He’s mesmerized, the day’s test forgotten
Worries and problems of no consequence
He must meet her; lest regrets be often
Or his life in future will make no sense!
Serendipity! The stars are aligned -
She glanced his direction; their eyes locked in
A smile, a more pleasant sight, none can find
A blush, a surge of happiness within!
From then on, he made sure the bus to catch
For in his heart he knew, he’d met his match!
07-06-2016
© Vic Evora
Written middle of last year. A pair of English sonnets to recall memories from so long ago! The snow is a stretch of course, it never snowed where I spent my youthful years.
Préféré par...
Ingeborg Von Finsterwalde/Waltraud I Mack
8aThose golden memories of days gone by. The moment when cupid enters the picture and the world is whole, when your heart races and you are flying high. Beautiful Vic!
Vic Evora
8aThank you Ingeborg. Below is a quote I though epitomizes young love. LOL “For the record, I would like to point out that it is NOT being obsessive to memorize a boy's schedule so that you can accidentally bump into him. It is called being efficient.” Jess Rothenberg, The Catastrophic History of You and Me
Robert L. Martin
8aGood to hear from you, again Vic. I know the feeling he must have. It's happened to me. also.
Vic Evora
8aThank you Robert.
Nelson D Reyes
8aI could relate to you both Ingeborg and Robert. Many winters and jaw shaking cold days and nights waiting for a bus ride to Virginia from the Old Post Office bus depot in Washington DC to be with the person who stole my heart. And she never gave it back! Like. Thanks Brod.
Vic Evora
8aThank you brod. I lived in New York for ten years. And been on those bus stops myself. But by then I was married to my first wife already.
J Ann Crowder
8aYoung love is beautiful! This sounds like the beginning of a story. Now you need to write one about old love. Well done!
Vic Evora
8aThank you Jenifer. I did write one a long time ago. Just haven't posted it yet. The title is "When We Grow Old". Maybe I will post it LOL
Vic Evora
8aThere's also a poem here called "The Lighthouse" - it's all about "Old Love"
J Ann Crowder
8a@Vic: I will be sure to look it up.
Vic Evora
8a@J Ann Crowder : I have just posted "When We Grow Old" - I hope you like it.
Francisco P.
3aAh..this thing called love. I had a few of these moments. I could surely relate. Beautiful brod Vic!
Vic Evora
3a@Francisco Potato Thanks for liking Brod. I have a few more stories to tell for sure.
Charlotte B. Williams
1aLove by chance. Who could’ve known they’d meet someone they liked at the bus stop. You didn’t tell me about this one. Good story mi amigo.
Vic Evora
1a@Charlotte B. Williams: Ooops! I’m sorry I forgot. 😊😊 Thanks for liking.