Drifters

I cast my heart upon the wind, hoping someone finds it.
Or maybe yet it�ll hit another, drifting close to mine.
Maybe they will look inside, for something they might need.
Or I will  look inside of theirs, and see what I can find.

Anyway I�ve found a few, but nothing I could use.
One I found was interesting, slim chance but may work out.
It wasn�t drifting or flying by, it was hidden but I peeked.
I have since returned it, she was grateful there�s no doubt.

But still I saw that sparkle, when she held out her hand.
Her eyes never left me, as I looked deep inside.
That is when she touched me, taking back her heart.
On mine she left her fingerprint, there it still resides.

To this day it still remains, I touch it now and then.
My dreams are filled, with her smiles, as I plan to wait.
Still much uncertainty, but this one I won�t rush.
Way too much has happened, for anything but fate.
The Masked Writer <-.->
(C) 2001 T Lovett
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