The lovers at the airport
I sit here in this public place,
Glancing every now and then,
Across at the couple holding hands,
Each with a smile upon their face.
It's early in the morning,
He probably hasn't had his coffee,
But thanks to his lovely feeling,
He doesn't need it greatly.
She yawns, he sighs,
He gives her a tired smile.
She rubs the dirt from his eyes,
Admiring his features the whole while.
In their seats they begin to shift,
Then they hug and lightly kiss,
And I wonder when I'll recieve this gift,
And my eyes tear up for the one I miss.
It's a quarter to five,
An early hour, when not a single bird sings,
We're waiting for the plane to arrive,
But these two, they're flying without wings.
