Jenny Free Verse
JENNY FREE VERSE
Balaclava over my head,
I nipped into the John Hewitt
and went nervously up to the bar.
'Are you a poet?' a woman's voice inquired.
I dreaded the question, so embarrassed. It was a key moment.
'I'm ... I play with words on paper!'
I fumbled in my pocket for a pen and notebook.
'I'm having fun with the language!'
I laughed - I felt a great weight
lift from my shoulders
as she slipped the balaclava
off my head and kissed me.
'Can I buy you a drink?' the lady
bought me a Pernod, and hey presto!
we were off to the races,
talking passionately
About Heaney, Mahon and Longley.
Jenny Free Verse
gave me her number,
promised to have a look at my notebook
and give me some feedback.
'Cheers!'
I waltzed down the street,
got back to the house in ¾ time,
got my Italian leather, hand-crafted,
writing journal out from the tall boy
and wrote, ‘I just met Jenny Free Verse!'
Copyright © Ken Colonsay | Year Posted 2012
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