The night reflects in his eyes
As we stop for the light,
His hand resting warm on my thigh,
Familiar for over three decades.
The night of March seventeenth,
At the Front Range Inn,
First time I laid eyes on him.
Rakish and dangerous,
Smile inviting, interest not hidden,
It was lust at first sight.
He still smiles that smile at me
And it is still St Patricks night-
Holding hands, we head home
As the light turns green.
*** just a little something for my husband, Bob, best St Pats ever!