He Lives, He Loves, And He Waits

They question: "Where's your man?" I reply: "Far from here, in another land Somewhere in a life so rapid, Working hard, preparing, Waiting..." "Waiitng? Preparing for what?" they ask (This repetition has become a consistent task, But kindly I respond): "He prepares for the day whence we shall meet. The day he will have to wait no longer for me". (Suprised as they appear to be, I release a cunning smile practiced for such a reply. Nothing more do I say further, no need to... Until they persist): "So you do not have a man?!" (Luckily for me I am prepared for such inconvenient questions): "Of course I have a man! Unseen to your unsighted eyes he lives! Albeit somewhere I do not know, but he lives! And he waits, preparing for our first contact The day when the sky will be blue And the ress will sway The day when our dreams will collide And synchronize. But he lives, and he loves whilst he waits." (Such questions are evasive and tough to combat Though in my heart I know the truth; No man right by my side But someone searching to find My inflammable smile. He lives, he loves and he waits for me too). *This is just one of those spur of the moment type poems*