The clock struck twelve at night,
The winter being unendurable,
An abiding pause had taken over the place,
Until a droning sound was heard.
The murkiness had been turned off,
By a streak of light emanating from the cellphone.
Her eyes gleamed,
Miles away, a boy looked at her picture with a prepossessing smile.
They talked late into the night,
Certainly, they were foolish,
Topics ranged from transistors to aircrafts,
Little did they know that they were under the mercy of Cupid.
She cooled her heels in a meadow where he kept waiting as well,
The meadow being surreal,
They never met.
Both of them knew the Reality,
Hiding emotions had become a game,
Long conversations had lost their charm,
And short ones left them in torment.