Waiting for my Beautiful Woman When we are to meet the two of us she and I I come, not at the time appointed but in my eagerness, always a little early And she comes, sometimes early, sometimes on time, but mostly just a little bit late I grow restless standing here, the space between each second an eternity ... But when I see her lovely face, the memory of waiting fades like the last trace of night when day dawns and everything is happiness I smile for her like I can for no one else