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LAVENDER LADY
She was my lavender lady;
Standing by the lake,
Gazing across the sky-blue water
At who-knows what in the distance.
She was the very essence of elegance.
Spurning the mini-skirted fashion of the age,
Her flowing summer dress
Modestly reached mid-calf.
I was not given to approaching perfect strangers
(And I use the word ‘perfect’ advisedly)
But I was drawn to her.
Like a moth to a flame?
Iron filings to a magnet?
Choose your own simile.
“Lovely day,” I ventured,
“For gazing across lakes.”
“Very pleasant,” she responded, coolly.
“Do you come here often?”
I heard myself say, with horror
And caught a glimpse of amusement 
In those pale blue eyes
At the outrageous cliché.
“Did you really say that,” she asked,
“Or I did I imagine it?”
“Sorry,” I said. “I always get tongue-tied 
At moments like these.”
“I see. And what sort of moment is this then?”
“!t could be a moment of destiny.
“Hmm,” she said, “and, then again, it could be
An insignificant moment in time”
She turned to walk away.
“Lavender really suits you,” I tried.
But she kept on walking.
I called after her.
“You didn’t answer my question,”
“What question was that?”
She asked, over her shoulder.
“Do you come here often?”
She laughed
“Come again tomorrow and find out.”

19th September 2020
Clutching at Straws contest
Sponsor Kai Michael Neuman

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