© 2007 by Robin T. Cravey

among the poems read, this one…

A tender-hearted girl

One august afternoon I woke,

exhaled a wisp of half-dreamed smoke,

and still in dreamy ardor, spoke—

A tender-hearted girl.

A long-recurring boyish dream

theat seethed like boiling coffee steams,

it soothed like spoons of cool thick cream—

A tender-hearted girl.

In middle twenties gladly living,

tasting grief but still believing,

I found myself pursued by loving—

A tender-hearted girl.

More resonant than resolute,

she shyly spoke with simple truth,

and kindled all my eager youth—

A tender-hearted girl.

The blossoms on the gardent fence

in reds and blues the sunups rinse

express another’s inward tints—

A tender-hearted girl.