Sunday, August 19, 2007


Angie lives in at number three
With a man who drives a Ford Capri.
They walk together in the park
And don’t come home till after dark.

I often see her pass our gate
In dark brown coat with head held straight.
She doesn’t look to left or right,
But carries on till out of sight.

Her pale blue eyes and dogged expression
Always leave a marked impression
So elegant, so calm, so chic,
Her perfect bones and body sleek.

I often wish she’d show some sign
That one day, maybe, she’d be mine.
I’d tried to meet her, quite by chance,
But never earned a second glance.

Other men don’t seem to find
It hard to talk to womankind.
I know I needn’t be so lonely,
If I could have dear Angie, only……

Btu then today, through sheer persistence,
Ange acknowledged my existence!
I saw her walking home from town
And deliberately slowed right down.

As she approached, I gave a smile
My heart a-pounding all the while.
And, as my mind began to falter,
Her blank expression seemed to alter.

She beckoned me across the road,
And showed me where she’d left her load.
Surveying it, all brown and soggy,
I whispered “What a clever doggie!”

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