Poem - Romance on a Plane

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NOTE: This page is a daughter page of: Poems

The poem tell the story of this girl. Nothing happened, but she's very sweet. :) She bought me dinner in Santiago (Chile) and saw me off to my flight back to San Francisco, while hers went to Boston.

Romance on a Plane

Waiting to go home.

Her sweet smile makes the airport brighter,
The heavy air of a waiting crowd gets lighter.

She sits by herself.
It seems unusual for such a beautiful girl to be without company.

I will say hello, but I'll probably use some excuse like "is this waster safe", to check she speaks English.
To see if she's as friendly as she seems.

She smiles sweetly,
She is happy to meet me.

She has a spark behind her magnificent blue eyes,
I love blue eyes.

This spark tells me in an instant that she's had an incredible trip hiking in nature,
It tells me in an instant that I'm talking to an intelligent, independent woman.
You don't need to be able to read people well to perceive the special few who have spark.

She's travelling alone.

We banter, we smile, we make jokes about our quirky parents and their partners after their first marriage.
Suddenly it seems normal to talk about such things.

I don't really think she's a teacher, there is no way, but I'll tell her that, because I have no idea what she does.
I could imagine her doing anything.
But I know she has passion.
Unlike so many other people, she has passion in her veins, and light to share with the world.

I bet, on the dance floor, she generates electricity.
She lets herself go when she goes out out the city.
But for now, it is wonderful, just to have her eyes near to me.
Waiting to go home.

I have no expectations, nothing to lose,
Statistically, there is almost no chance she will be next to me on the plane.
But it's fun to joke about the possibility.
In fact, she sits just behind me, so we pass notes.

She thinks it's weird I carry letter sized paper on a plane.
I think it's weird she thought a guy who organized a "just the two of us" camping trip with her was trying to be friends.

Smart but naive.
Sounds like me.
Part dreamer, yet grounded in reality.
Did I tell her yet I have a PhD?

There's really no point to try impressing her. It's not like we can make out in the back of the plane.
Is it? Maybe not the most romantic place ever.
Let's just be authentic instead.

Maybe when we land we'll be in the same waiting area.
But for now we pass notes, and share food.

I tell her I'll write a poem for her. This poem.
It's not a very good poem. Doesn't really even rhyme.
But maybe it's been a while since a gentleman has written about her inner glow in poem form.
And that will make her smile.

We appreciate this moment for what it is. Whether or not she would ever kiss me is irrelevant.
I have seen her smile.
It's an unlikely place and time to flirt. Unexpected. My elbows cramp, the noise of the aircraft pulses, but inside I smile
A chance to appreciate her obvious warmth, her wit, her smile.

She is my airport romance. :)
Waiting to go home.

            -- by Andrew Noske

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