Weak at the knees,
Sweet begins to bead,
I know you are there,
But you will never be here.
***
You had the eyes the smile,
The love and the hare,
My taste in music,
It was all there.
***
But my mind was aching,
You weren’t mine,
For the taking,
Just a friend for the making.
***
You will always make,
Me weak at the knees,
Make me fall in a breeze,
But you will never please.
Pesky Poetry 