At First Sight, By the Water’s Light

At First Sight, By the Water’s Light

Along the shore where dawn was spilled,

Where waves in silver hush were stilled,

I saw you standing, calm and slight,

A figure woven out of light.

The breeze was soft, the morning mild,

Yet something deeper stirred and smiled;

For in that moment, time grew thin—

The world fell out, and you stepped in.

Your form moved gentle as the tide,

With curves the ocean wished to hide

From any eyes but mine alone,

As though your beauty was its own.

The sun leaned low to touch your face,

To gild your skin with golden grace;

Your hair, a stream of midnight lace,

Danced free in nature’s soft embrace.

I whispered words you could not hear—

They trembled shyly in my ear.

For in my mind, I spoke to you

With honesty both bold and true.

“Do you feel this?” my spirit cried,

Watching you breathe with rising pride.

Your tenderness, your quiet sway,

Stole every careful thought away.

Your gentle steps imprinted peace;

Your presence made my heartbeat cease,

As though my body paused to feel

A truth too sudden, strong, and real.

You moved like poems move through night—

A harmony of shape and sight;

A soft emotion made of form

That kept my startled soul warm.

I wished to walk toward where you stood,

But courage rarely does what it should.

For though my heart surged like the sea,

My feet refused to carry me.

The doubt, that old unwelcome guest,

Pressed heavy on my timid chest;

It asked me why a girl like you

Would ever feel this longing too.

Yet still I sensed—though faint the spark—

A glance you cast that reached my heart.

Your eyes met mine for half a breath;

In that brief pause, I tasted death—

Not of the body, but the kind

That kills the fear within the mind.

That single gaze, so quick, so slight,

Lit up the shadows with its light.

I whispered silently again,

Practicing lines in vain and then—

Rehearsing smiles I dared not show,

Imagined words I’d never know

How to release in open air,

Afraid they’d scatter, thin and bare.

Oh, how I longed to speak at last,

But found myself anchored in the past.

Your movement was a drifting art;

Each gesture tugged upon my heart.

The swing of hips, the gentle line

That shaped your silhouette divine—

Your curves were carved from tender mist,

By hands that even dawn had kissed.

Not bold in flaunting, loud in show,

But quiet, soft, and warm with glow.

I saw you lift your face to feel

The wind that swept with gentle zeal,

And in that tilt, that upward frame,

My longing flared into a flame.

You stood as if the earth was thrilled

To hold the place your presence filled;

And I, poor man, could only gaze

And drown within your shining haze.

I asked you once more in my mind,

“If I stepped close, would you be kind?

Would you accept the words I bear,

Or walk away as if unaware?”

Your laughter drifted through the air,

A sound so soft, so rich, so rare;

It wrapped itself around my fear

And whispered, “Come a little near.”

But still I froze, my courage small—

Afraid my voice would crack and fall.

Afraid that if I dared to start,

You’d hear the trembling in my heart.

So I remained, though longing burned,

A witness to the dreams I yearned

To shape from silence into truth,

Still prisoner to my timid youth.

Yet know this, love I cannot speak:

It’s you my inward voices seek.

You are the dawn that changed my sight,

The shore that taught my heart its light.

And though my tongue may fail today,

My soul still finds its quiet way

To whisper all I long to prove:

You are my first, unfaltered love.

So if you somehow sense my plea,

Hear waves that echo silently—

Then know my heart is reaching through,

Hoping to find its home in you.