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Rainy Day Kismet

Tags: poetry

Do gingers have a soul.

The rain was falling on that fateful day
As autumn weather forced me to stop by.
Beside a window watching trickles play,
Whilst stirring tea, she heaved a heavy sigh.

Side glances to her face at somber rest;
Soft, cradled in a dainty hand, her chin.
Thick locks, of titian, formed a wavy nest;
Inspired my sense of wonder, and a grin.

She surely had a soul, I smiled within,
For beauty such as this must be divine.
Resisting impulse now would be a sin,
So masterly I took her hand with mine.

My eyes met hers; we felt the power flow.
Kismet is truth; 'tis all that we need know.

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