My Child of Prague

I long to hold my child of Prague
To draw her close with a melting embrace
To steal a gaze into her hazel eyes
And be entranced by her enchanting face


Alas, if only our lips could meet
And drive our passions to explode
To touch, caress, my twenty-one
Sweep her off to my secret abode


Patiently, I wait for my potion of sweet twenty-one
Together we will retreat to a secret romantic rendezvous!
Somewhere quaint
Somewhere between sheets of heavenly blue


But for now it is mundane
It is simply
A coffee machine


Those red lips of wine
Which will surely taste divine
Yes I know,
Only a miracle
Can make those lips press upon mine


And the cup falls
Twenty-one trickles to the line
I pass you the cup
Yet, your love is still not mine


How will it taste?
How will it be?
To drench my thirst with twenty-one
All of it for me


Draw close my love, my child of Prague,
Kiss me you fool,
My cup of love of twenty-one.


Maybe I will write you a letter
Just a few lines
I will happily suffer death a thousand times
Ah, but what is death a thousand times
When you are not mine
My child of Prague


This was written for a special female classmate, who will most probably never kiss me.

patrick groome


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