Under The Olive Tree

I see you, under the sun and heat . Sweat drips down your neck and onto your chest, your laughing with your friends. Smiling, giggling, talking with that voice so sweet and thick with Irish accent. Your engulfed in conversation with the boys on the bench, I stare but you don't see me and my friends by the school building. Henry my best friend thinks I should talk to you, he pushes me forward saying "if you like him, go talk to him". So I walk towards the bench under the olive tree in front of me, the sunshine obscured by its leaves. Meanwhile A thousand thoughts and possibilities rush though my head, I can't see right but I can still make you out of the crowd that are now mostly looking at me. Every step closer my heart races more and more, now all my eyes see is you. I reach the bench but I stop a few feet away, your friends point me out. Almost in slow motion you turn your gaze towards me, your brown eyes catch the light as you recognise me, they shimmer with oak wood colours but I know they do not shine for me....