Anticipation
follows like a ghost
who believes silence
renders his presence
unnoticeable.
-
Anticipation
lingers like perfume
warmed by heated blood
to scent the skin and
air.
-
Anticipation
heightens through glances
short or lingering
exchanged in Hogwarts'
corridors.
-
Anticipation
entwines like fingers
whose outward show
displays the inner
union.
-
Anticipation
echoes in memories
of voices tender
with love and whispered
promises.
-
Anticipation
pursues like letters
sent from family
questioning future
plans.
-
Anticipation
presses like lips
clinging, exulting
the waiting will end
soon.
-
-
A/N: Although it's been months since Our Little Secret finished posting, I haven't given up on writing further adventures, at least in one-shots. As this poem probably shows, my inner Rose and Scorpius are also very happy about the thought of the wait ending soon. :D