He walks into the garden and I know it is him
I wonder if the 'butterflies in my tummy' are late
I know it is him, but where was all the excitement and nervous flutter I was told to expect
Then he spots me and I wonder if my butterflies had migrated to his tummy
He was tall, dark and handsome
Eyes like white almonds
Cheekbones set high and finely chiseled
Red lips so conspicuous on his dark face
Shoulders square, chest broad, arms so strong and perfect.
I longed for the moment when they would gather me like flowers
And hold my head to that chest.