Sally Forth Onto the Battlefield

I present another poem, like it or not. I might have mentioned before either of the two I've posted previously (the first being this one, and the second this)that I have not written very many, though I may have read a few more than the average person. I like to think that I have most of the fundamental knowledge, though. As I've said, I like to play with words like the parts of a clock. Perhaps my inexperience in poetry could be called an advantage of the kind enjoyed by Orson Welles as he left theater and radio behind in favor of motion pictures. Probably that's not the case, but it gives me enough confidence to take a stab at poetry.

This is what's called a Roundel. It's a variation on the French Rondeau form, which was most famously employed for John MaCrae's World War One poem, 'In Flanders Fields'. I would have written one of those, but got the idea that I would rather not do so in English, in spite of the fact that there's obviously no prohibition against it.

~
I want to ask her out, this girl, but must muster the nerve.
I fear the pain that reaches deep but must my fright allay.
I now resolve to risk it all and be with who I deserve
I want to ask her out.

I wait until the time is right and no one can observe.
I steel myself to enact the plan- today shall be the day.
Unblinkingly, I'll stay on course- I swear that I won't swerve.

I  approach her and open my mouth to ask without delay
But my will fails, and I speak not, my feelings to preserve.

I couldn't bear the hurt to come if "No" she were to say
I want to ask her out.
~