Like the lonely sun,
passionately longing
to kiss the man in the moon,
she, the bookworm,
cannot hope to ever touch
even the dimpled chin
of oblivious him,
who has never read
Blake, Machado,
Wordsworth, or Poe
for that matter.
Even so, out from her eyes
she shines on him alone
the pure unreasoning light
of musingly sad youthful love,
all the while dreaming
day and night
how best to span
the unfathomable gulf
that lies between them.
William Jackson
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/spanning-the-unfathomable-gulf/
