Having seen gold in the churches of Spain, <br />the conquistadors, <br />inconsolable for want of it, <br />pursued a gleam visible <br />across miles of cruel desert, <br />driving stakes into the earth <br />that they might make their way home. <br />Alas, they found only pyrite. <br /> <br />I see a pretty blonde <br />across a crowded room <br />or in a lunchtime rush <br />on the street <br />and, against reason, <br />allow my imagination to conjure you, <br />or more specifically you <br />as a part of us. <br />Alas, the asphalt and concrete <br />of my city <br />do not lend themselves <br />to the driving of stakes.<br /><br />Don McWilliams<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/seduction-imagination-and-the-driving-of-stakes/
