The Wait

I think the most romantic scene of awaiting goes like this.

In the moonlight,
where the night is as bright as day,
where the moon is at her fullest,
like a mysterious glowing crystal ball.

The lady moon is shining down,
smiling as though she knows something,
creating shadows on an oriental pavilion,
in the middle of a secret garden.

A lone figure is waltzing,
like a muted musical box.
Twisting and turning,
with an imaginary partner.

She is living in her own world.
Her backview seems lonely,
like she is waiting for someone.

She is engrossed in her steps,
her eyes shut, to enjoy the sound of silence.

Then, a pair of eyes cast their view upon this tireless figurine.
And like a shadow fleeting,
He took up her hand,
and stepped into the imaginary role she created.

Two merged into one,
and they danced the night off.