A Tasmanian Angel
Typing away, their words had met,
Across a computer filled internet.
She was a Taz, he was a Scot,
She, beautifully bronzed, he, definitely not!
She had bought a picture of his,
From an application called ‘Owned’
Shocked at when he got in touch,
‘Not a bloody Scotsman!’ she moaned.
Soon he was to grow on her,
Like an apple on a tree.
Flirting with a Tassie devil?
Surely, not a man like me?!
The devil turned out to be an angel,
Beautiful, smart and sweet.
Chatting and flirting away with her,
Would soon become a treat.
Once he actually spoke to her,
Surprising him, she spoke back.
The conversation was quite fun,
Laughs it didn’t lack.
Sending messages to each other,
From either hemisphere.
Thinking he might go there,
And drink the Tassie beer.
Her beautiful golden hair,
Was styled across her head.
‘I wish I had some of that’
To himself, he actually said.
Her brilliant white teeth,
Gave her a gleaming smile.
She obviously went to the dentist,
More than once in a while.
She has a Volkswagen beetle,
Beautiful, big and glossy.
A roaring red mean machine,
And she’s gone and named it Flossy!
She goes out to all the rallies,
Seeing different types of cars.
Then comes home, opens the ‘bubbles’
Instead of going to bars.
Not going for the ‘Krug’ or ‘Crystal’
She opts for a kind named ‘Jansz’
He begins to think this little lady,
Has too much time on her hands.
Having to end this little ditty,
Before it gets too long.
And not spoiling something good,
By bursting into song.
‘Really pleased to meet you, Nicky’
His words were filled with bliss.
I hope a great friendship, from this will grow,
‘My name?’ he grinned. ‘Oh, it’s Chris.’
Copyright © Chris Gair | Year Posted 2016
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