Brief encounters
by cricketjeff on September 16, 2009. © Jeff Green, All rights reserved
She was walking from the station dreaming only of her tea,
He was hurrying to meet an old school friend.
Then they bumped into each other and they almost didn’t see
How a tale that starts this way is sure to end.
He was cross and she was crosser, each one blamed the other’s rush;
There was not the least suggestion of some soft romantic mush.
Just a day or two had happened when her train was very late,
He was early when his paper caught the wind.
As her hair met centre section she was quickly in a state,
He didn’t help, but looked at her and grinned.
They were squashed against each other on their journey up to town
And they’d reached their destination well before she lost her frown.
It was Tuesday, maybe Wednesday, at a café eating lunch;
When they met again on tables near the door.
He was eating all day breakfast and had roses in a bunch,
She’d lasagne and her briefcase on the floor.
When he left he left a rosebud, said her hair was very smart,
It was better with no paper, though that could be “modern art”.
At a meeting on that Friday he was quite surprised to find
She was wrapped in conversation with his boss.
Couldn’t do his crossword puzzle there was something on his mind
“Fascination” was the clue for nine across.
She had come about a contract and the deal was almost done,
When she saw him through the window and she thought “is he the one?”
At the pub, in celebration, there were drinks for all the staff,
Her new contract would mean bonuses all round.
He was standing but not seeing, wished he’d been born as a giraffe
But at last he found her table by the sound.
There were formal introductions, he’d be working on her case
But he didn’t see those details, just the details of her face.
At the weekend it was pouring, too much rain for Noah’s Ark,
Lousy weather’s what the Internet is for.
When he typed her name on Facebook it was “only for a lark”
But he found her so he had to find out more.
Though he wasn’t much to look at magazines say “wit is best”
So she thought about the rosebud and clicked yes to “friend request”.
They did quizzes, some quite hot ones, built a kingdom, fought a war,
He bought her and she bought him, all Facebook games.
On the train to work on Monday awkward mumbles to the fore;
They said “hi” and “bye” with funny little names.
Lunch was back in that same café, fingers touched when fetching salt
They were late back after eating, would not say who was at fault.
To the pub and to the pictures, then the “one month dinner date”
They grew closer than a stamp and envelope.
Bought a flat and told their parents these things tend to escalate,
Found they’d tied each other up in silky rope.
He’s still working on her contract, she’s the boss from nine to five,
But it’s after work and weekends when the couple come alive.
English