There’s an itch lurking up my nostril
waiting to be scratched when it deems fit.
There’s a chuckle in my belly
awaiting a stroke of genius wit.
There’s a tap poised inside my tip toe
a snap in my finger does loom.
Both await the same presence:
the tempo of a catchy tune.
There are two shivers in my spine
standing politely in a queue.
Each is poised to shiv away
in a moment deja vue.
Ready for a handsome stranger
in my left eye does stand a wink.
There’s one sitting in right eye too,
together they do make a blink.