I watch her from a distance,
Perhaps behind some trees.
No courage in that instance;
No balance in my knees.

I'd never hazard speech,
Nor risk a whispered word.
Lunacy would never reach
A notion so absurd.

My tangled tongue could only pull
A mangled, muttered mess,
And then she'd count me as a fool,
A simpleton, or less.

We're I a fancy talker,
I'm sure that she'd be mine,
But here I stand a stalker,
And not her valentine.