Way Misunderstood

I once dated a lady from Providence.
She had lots of degrees and I, little sense.
We went on a date and took a stroll.
She walked right into a telephone pole.
She fell down and scraped her knee.
Writhing in pain she screamed at me.
“My glasses unworn so I’d look good!”
I helped her get home as I should.
We cleaned her wound, it wasn’t that bad.
Our date was ruined and we both were sad.
I asked to see her again real soon.
We both agreed on the next afternoon.
I went to her house, she opened the door.
What she had planned I wasn’t sure.
She said come in; you can have your way.
What she said next, I couldn’t say.
She left the room and I got undressed,
thinking this better than I had guessed.
When she returned she gasped in shock,
while I was caressing a huge pet rock.
She soon started swinging and I ran out.
I stood naked outside, my lunch in doubt.
A misunderstanding ruined that day.
And I never did try her curds and whey.



As the time grows near,
anticipation grows to fear.
First meetings are always hard,
but at least a page for the bard.
Black or white or shades of plaid,
good or bad an experience had.
A pleasant day and a pleasant lunch,
tomorrow’s unknown, but a hunch.
Sparks yet to fly,
there’s no twinkle in the eye,
a goodbye hug with space between,
love at first sight not felt or seen.
A future call will say it all,
will there be a summer or a fall.
Days ahead, there’s a bunch,
more pleasant times and yet another lunch.