Naipaul Extremely Rare

Standing by the bench so yellow
Over it stood that huge purple tree, I knew you come to sit there
Whilst the leaves of the said tree falling decorating you
You had no inkling that tree was watching you
As soon as you sat its leaves shedding over You
Whilst engrossed in that book so excited you were
To get your hands on that Naipaul book extremely rare
Even the laughter from the opened cafe would distracted you not
The scent of the coffee..the aroma heavenly!
The colour of your sky's in passing the colour blue so blue
And the clouds passing cumulus white so true..
With a promise of rain showers impending ..or not
But it makes no difference, it makes not to you
You cared not if it showered or rained
Engrossed in that book rain or not its true..
Your senses so attuned on the said book when the rain softly falls..
On your eyes your lips wet, I watching you waiting to kiss the rain from your lips..
I stood there in silhouette like a shadow over you..
Smiling turning about starting to write as I watched you ..
Being here on this day of days, sharing the same bench with you..
Over that shop the green windows with that lovely view of the station small bijou ..
Sitting here thinking of you as I write with the distance between me and you ..
Terrified that if you'd not come the madness in me for you ..
This obsessive obsession that I have for you,
Am stranger than strange..you know
But my passion when night time falls the romance within me..
As I search that place you were sitting all day through..
Kissing you as you stand there, inhaling the scent of you
The scent of he for me..
And my words my words I scream out for you ..
The words the colour of spring ..
So true..
                            Connie James.