When He Walks into the Room

When he walks into the room
my heart delights, though in a way suppressed
its throbbing I worry would cause he
to move his head to catch the sound and find me.

The silent stars or the moon above
envious they are of my great joy
when he walks in masculine grace
he tells my soul to find employ
the very wind that blows the chimes
of alarm to my chamber's core.

When he walks into the room
when I hear them careful strides
I close my heart and gently pray
forever be this fateful night.