Stoic faces
Folded hands
Listening to the teaching
Of the Holy Lands
Distracted by thought,
A wandering eye
Catches sight
Of someone nearby
Their eyes do meet
Then shy away
No flirting
In this church today
Then slowly
Their eyes do meet again
No longer simply looking
Down at their hands
Her face turns
A bright cherry red
He runs his hand
Through the hair on his head
After church,
He looks for her face
Longing to hold her
In his embrace
She, in turn,
Is looking for him
As the pastor is singing
The final hymn
Do these lovers ever meet
In this setting so strange and rare?
I cannot answer that for you,
For I merely observed the church affair.