Isabelle Collins adjusted her skirt
Out on the town and ready to flirt
Putting the days of her work week to rest
She hoped that tonight would be one of her best
“I’ll dance and I’ll play and they’ll buy me some booze
Then on the next day through the morning I’ll snooze
Life’s fun and I’m happy and carefree and gay
And I see no good reason it can’t be that way”
But Isabelle Collins had become quite annoyed
For a fearsome reality she tried to avoid
He’d bought her a drink and not acted a fool
He was quiet and shy but he seemed kind of cool
In the following weeks she’d seen him around
And once on the street under leaves turning brown
She’d perk up and smile when they happened to meet
And afterwards daydream of how he was neat
Her days they were dreary after feverish dreams
For in them his eyes were like two shining beams
In the morning she recalled how he saw to her soul
Then she’d finish her breakfast and wash out her bowl
She suddenly realized with an unsettling start
She’d foolishly let him take hold of her heart
Then admitting a trembling doubt to herself
Wondered aloud, “does he want me himself”?
“Shouldn’t he woo me and try to impress
Buy me some flowers and call me ‘princess’?
Shouldn’t he shower me in words of his love
Tell me I’m pretty and call me his dove?”
“How did I let myself come to this place?
I’m unsure of myself and it feels a disgrace
The least he could do is to write me a poem
Doesn’t have to be long, why I don’t need a tome”
My dearest darling, Isabelle
You’re lovely as the rising dawn
The stars are outshone by your glory
“That would sound so sweet in a song”
Ti Amo mia Isabelle
You’re lithe and nimble as a fawn
But it’s my heart that’s now your quarry
“Or maybe he’d call me a swan!”
Isabelle, sweetest Isabelle
You’re graceful as a dove in flight
I’m awed by your soaring radiance
“How kind and I daresay that’s right”
I pledge my heart to Isabelle
My hearing, touch, smell, taste and sight
Clothed in beauty you hold me in trance
“He’d pen that I’m winsome and bright”
Now caught up in her flowery verse
She blushed and sighed but thought it terse
“He should delve more deeply into my soul
Employ some solemnity, not be so droll”
Her wild imaginings now running unchecked
A grand ode to herself she sought to perfect
Oh effervescent daughter of the wave [“Ah, daughter of the blue!”]
Oh effervescent daughter of the blue
On my heart you’ve etched your truth
With cascading caress my heart you engrave
“Or would that last line end in ‘drew’?”
With cascading caress on my heart you have drew
“Well, he’ll work it all out and apply the right hue”
Oh effervescent daughter of the wave
On my heart you’ve etched your truth
With cascading caress my heart you engrave
“That’s all that’s required, a proof!”
“I’d be so flattered by his words I don’t know what I’d do
I’d flush with pride and smile wide and coo a sweet ‘thank you'”
Oh effervescent daughter of the waves
On my heart you’ve etched your truth
With cascading caress my heart you’ve engraved
With your flowing beauty you’ve soothed
I’m lost in your eyes, your delicate sighs and your lovely scent tickles my nose
And from stillness we’ve rose to the crest of our throes with a trickle, a splatter, a flood
Like a wild beach rose in the bloom of our love, my passion for you ever grows
“‘Lovely, lovely Isabelle…,’ tee hee” she thought, “that’s me!”
“For I’m the daughter of the waves, as anyone could see”
Drunk on her words and her own compliment
Rethinking her poem she now sought to augment
“How could these dear words be more firmly of me?
A lover’s love’s grand as I’m starting to see
But the love talk is clichéd and been done before
He should write more of me and should flatter me more”
Oh orchid of sweet delirium [“A flower of love so I’m told”]
Oh orchid of opulent grace [“And of luxuries known to the bold”]
Oh orchid of staggering style and poise [“It’s beautiful as am I”]
Your splendiferous flair is your strength [“Hmm, I might be too good for this guy”]
So full of herself and high on her charm
Seduced by her words and not sensing alarm
She stretched and yawned her allusions complete
She slipped off her shoes and massaged her two feet
No record exists of that day in her room
And her memory’s spotty in the face of her doom
It was so long ago, in a faraway place
When she looks in the mirror she can’t find that face
But she remembers with fondness a walk in the park
And a sweet boy who escorted her home in the dark
Where he is now she can no longer say
And she wistfully wonders why life is that way