I do not know you well, but what I know Enchants me, like a song sung far away. I cannot hear the words, but what they say Hangs softly on the hills where I must go. I see you furtively and note your eyes, Hazel and dreamy, your spirit half elsewhere; I note the sheen of your dark, lustrous hair And wish I knew your thoughts and shared your cries. This love brings me sweet pain, but I want more, Driven by a dream I can't control. I want the truth of you, untamed and whole; In frantic hope I haunt your open door. Nicholas Gordon