Footloose

What if first-few-words felt

And silence could hear

That if she seldom spelt

He was all ears

How if faint-feet-taps moved

And dark could see

That if she ever danced

He went on a painting spree

What if soft-swift-fingers grazed

And clenched fist would loosen

That if she gaily crossed

He was excited in mundane

Now when she's turned away

What would he choose?

He's seen the impossible

Yet being a footloose