I sit by my phone,
All the night through,
I sit by my phone,
Wondering.

Will the call come?
Will it be her?
I stay through the night,
Wondering.

It silently sits,
Mocking the dark,
I keep my vigil,
Hoping.

Hoping against hope,
That it will ring,
Perhaps she will call,
Hoping.

The hours pass by,
Turning to days,
But I still wait,
Thinking.

She might have misplaced,
My phone number,
Soon she will call,
Thinking.

I sit by my phone,
All through the night,
I sit by my phone,
Wondering.

Will she call right now?
Then the phone rings,
I answer the phone,
Wondering.

http://www.davideyoung.com/Poems/ISBMP.html
Copyright 2000 by David E. Young. All rights reserved.