One, two, three, four,
before I lost interest,
lady in the yellow dress caught my drowsy eyes.
She spoke eloquently (at least that’s how it looked from afar),
she had a neat side braid and an ability
to turn my head a full 360.
Five, six, seven, eight,
until I slowly turned to stone,
lady in the yellow dress sang from the back to front.
She was a theatre goddess, said her knowledge
on stage left, stage right, and singing
that Miss Saigon number.
Now all I got to do is think of a plan
on how I can thank her
for making my heart work again,
preferably without all of the
stuttering and smiling that she found