Chance (a rhyming poem–what’s getting into me!?)

Your glance, magnetic, drew in mine,

not askance, no, but open, kind,

and I, entranced, betrayed my way

to watch this gaze that mirrored the day.

Life’s needle, shocked, shook left and right,

lost as if the black of night,

but then it halted on your face

and I could see no other place.

Before this fork, I thought about,

a long and predetermined route,

But this new path, it sings of chance,

I see it in your marked glance.