First Date, Last Date
"Andrea, with the accent on the dray",
she coyly introduced herself to me.
Exotic, dazzling beauty; to this day
her face still lingers in my memory.
My life till then seemed vaguely out of tune,
now, dulcet melodies played in my ear.
Her smile could warm the sun and melt the moon -
I'd dreamed of dating her that whole school year.
"Quit you like men", my father used to say,
so girding up my loins, I asked her out.
Expecting her rejection that tense day,
she answered, "Sure!" as I suppressed a shout.
We went out for some pizza, piping hot;
I saw in her no scarcity nor flaw.
My mind in wonder at her every thought,
meanwhile my eyes were pleased by what they saw.
Her lovely hair, like melted chocolate: rich
and silky smooth, at just the perfect length.
Good conversation was what scratched her itch
and I came thinking that was just my strength.
Sometimes though, bridges end up getting burned;
teen dreamers should be wary where they roam.
For when our dinner check arrived, I learned
alas, I'd left my money back at home!
Hugely embarrassed, I could barely speak;
up to that point, how nice the night had been.
I hardly left my room for one whole week,
too shy to ever ask her out again.
Life turned out great, I married well. And yet,
she still remains 'the one that got away'.
I reminisce with traces of regret,
Andrea, with the accent on the dray.
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