For on her stroll, she found a boy,
And for sure, she knew he was a coy.
Each attempt of her to budge closer,
Was his effort to saunter a step further.
So consistent was she as a walker,
Had she not been dragged into being a dreamer.
For a moment she stood helpless,
For her move was nothing but worthless.
The thought of her being a loser,
Was counteracted by her being a brooder.
For she strolled for miles,
The rugged path she wished to be garnished with tiles.
The journey to grasp him seemed never ending,
Yet she dragged on with determination ever growing.