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.