And I Should Wait

The dead grass from our hillside home
Comes tangled in our cotton clothes.
So the girl I know I had once known
Brushes off stickers as she goes.

Beryl skies and sun-bathed skin,
Gallant girl in mystic pose,
With practiced wit but free of sin
And intentions she says no one knows.

It shows she's learned to mix a serum
To guard against my lean and tug.
 I calculate in Bayesian Theorem
Is she smitten or is she smug?

But if I wait - and I should wait -
And she might try (it's not too late)
Then it could work
And I could work
But I should not anticipate.