There are those stories

With words for blushing,

Hearts in confusion,

With warm pulses rushing.

I want to know, I need to know, 

Just how that story ends.

There are those moments,

Those sweet stolen moments,

When passion creates,

Lovers that love, out of friends.

Walk through the chapters,

Keep your disguise,

Past the cool banter,

The play of their eyes.

I want to know, I need to know,

Just how the plot so soon thickens.

Hands holding hands,

Touching faces, stroking hair,

Wordless interruptions,

Their breathing also quickens.

She wears perfume for this,

He marks its hidden note,

Knows now the op’ning speech is his,

And low-pitched, clears his throat.

I want to know, I have to know,

How might a woman listen?

These are the magic words,

Hocus-pocus, love’s voo-doo focus,

Watch the cadence, watch the flow,

Gaze until her pupils glisten.

She melts, ah, she just melts,

Reserve all forsaken,

Shedding inhibitions,

Teasing to be taken.

I want to know, I have to know

Will she avoid love’s sorrow?

Time has a way of stealing off,

Like some lovers in the morning,

No notes of hope, or fond intent,

To take this past tomorrow.

Morning greets their rented room,

Where they both plied love’s verb,

Forestalling any sudden doom,

One dangling phrase: Please, Do Not Disturb!

I want to know, I ache to know,

Has love made any plans?

Will this become the best of life?

One happy husband, one willing wife?

Or will some slippery slope of fate,

Let love slip through their hands?

Read slowly each stage, let me turn the page,

While you chose what’s real, what’s pretend;

Till thought haply engages, the quest of the ages-

To live happily, long after the end.