Her painted eyes, two glances dart
One hurts; the other heals my heart.
Her furtive lightning glance is more
Than enjoyment of sexual lore.
She looked; looking bowed her head
And love-plant was with water fed.
I look; she droops to earth awhile
I turn; she looks with gentle smile.
No direct gaze; a side-long glance
She darts at me and smiles askance.
Their words at first seem an offence
But quick we feel them friendly ones.
Harsh little words; offended looks,
Are feigned consenting love-lorn tricks.
What a grace the slim maid has!
As I look she slightly smiles.
Between lovers we do discern
A stranger's look of unconcern.
The words of mouth are of no use
When eye to eye agrees the gaze.
SIGNS SPEAK THE HEART
