Many years ago
When I was young and ever-spry,
My hairline, then, was less receded,
And my stomach tight, but, I digress;
Where was I? Oh yes!
I sat and quaffed a whiskey in a pub
Alone one night.
After more than one or two, it’s true:
My spirit was alight
And humor too, it seemed,
I felt courageous and alive.
And so, I hoped that happenstance
Would take its place upon my side,
And I decided to be sociable
Or at least, give it a try…
Now, feeling drunk but hardly daring,
I thought it wise to start by staring
Inconspicuously ‘round the room
If only just to pass some time.
Perhaps this tactic would provide me with
The perfect moment when I
Would make a move,
If only I could get the nerve
So gaze I did, and just as well,
For, there was little chance I’d quell
The urge to stay there safely
On my own and fantasize.
And just as I’d all but resigned,
I caught a fleeting glimpse
That to this day I would swear
Could have been an angel drifting by.
Says I: “Lo, what marvelous thing is this?
Hath my imagination gone and run wildly amiss?”
Dubious, I admit, but aspiring to see things clearly,
“Doth mine eyes deceive me merely
To invoke this dithering fit?”
Or something like that…
And now, thoroughly amazed,
I sit and recount the drinks I’ve sipped,
For, surely that would explain it,
This illusion of a myth!
There’s the whiskey (thrice I filled)
The tequila (that I spilled)
And one mystery concoction
I don’t think the barkeep billed.
And still, she sits there smiling,
Like some bold, flirtatious siren
While I, awkward as a deer gaping at a blinding light
And it was then I felt
My head start spinning;
Still in utter disbelief
The fates had so aligned.
At first, I thought it was her smile
That petrified me for a while;
Hypnotized by her allure,
I tried to pinpoint my demise.
But in the end, I’m sure it was
Her gorgeous gazing eyes
That left me reeling, feeling silly
And completely mesmerized.