The Gift.

A present from the love of your life.

She stands waiting at the gate
Her calm eyes view the empty lane
Her aim is just to stand and wait
But now and then her head will strain
To where the bend in the distance turns.
She sighs and gives her head a shake
Irritation nibbles and then burns
As her patience begins to break
"He always comes, he never fails
He's always prompt, he's never late"
Her eagerness begins to pale
She looks again beyond the gate
Her feet they stamp in aggravation
'Where can he be? Where can he be?
Her manner shows her consternation
'Where is the gift he promised me?
Her head bows down, her spirits sink
The sun seems to hide behind a cloud
What the reason is she cannot think
Her head comes up defiant, proud
"I will not be treated in this way
He knows I look forward to his visit
His gift is the highlight of my day
It isn't too much to ask, is it?"
Then suddenly she stands quite still
Her head is tilted, ears alert
The sound of familiar footsteps kill
Every doubt, misgiving, hurt
Now exultation and heady gush
The eager thought, "he's come to me!"
She tries to crush the urge to rush
To hurry to the gate and see
All is fine now, at last he's there
Her heart is racing underneath
His hand is running through her hair
She takes the apple in her teeth