It was a sunday
when he first peeked inside,
gently tap, tap, tapping
upon the muddled senses
of a hopeless romantic
with glass heart mentality.
It didn’t take him long
to unfurl these tethered wings-
to lift up insecurities,
folding feathered promises
into a flowered path
unpaved, but favored
like a psalmist;
a harpist with a song
chasing the ultimate love story.
~Day 4 of NaPoMo (a poem a day in April for National Poetry Month)