I spied a little gnome upon a shelf,
All green and dusty, sitting in a trance,
Meditating inwards upon himself;
The light inside him moving in a dance.

My inclination moved for me to touch,
But I resisted it with all my will –
And, though the urge to do so was so much,
The little gnome is sitting, unmoved, still.

I drink my fill upon him with each gaze,
Searing his inner depths with burning eyes and
Still, he seems to sit all in a daze,
Not hearing my strident telepathic cries.
*

I have not touched nor even moved him yet.
I care not to lose my little friend so dear.
He in his ways and attitudes are set and
Disturbance might just make him disappear.
*

I noted as the time passed that he glowed, and
Dust seemed not to settle on him any more.
A river of light within him had slowly flowed
Until it flamed much brighter than before.
*

I thank him for the company he gives me.
He cares not what I do or what I say
And, as long as I shall always let him be,
My little gnome seems ever here to stay.
*

A recurring thought kept popping in my mind –
Had I, to him, myself endeared?
I reached out to touch, and touched, for love is blind…
As I’d suspected, he simply disappeared!