Sapna

Every woman's a mystery
Some poor man dares hope to solve.
Outwitted, outclassed, he goes in circles
Unless she lead him through the maze.

Valentine's Day has come too early:
I hardly know more than your name.
Yet I will write that you are lovely;
So much, no one can doubt is true.

Be not embarrassed by this tribute,
For all it is, is beauty's due.
Friendship's all I wish to claim,
There is nothing you need do.

Lady of letters, between the lines
You'll find the Journal of my heart.
Let anything you'd insert there
Be written with your smile.

—San Diego
2/13/2001