She is popular no doubt
In the fray of every conversation
Interested in everyone’s story
Flitting around the room injecting optimism
Instilling hope
A sanguine personality with pizazz
I follow her as she work the room
Charisma on fire
Charming them like a faerie riding a monarch
Her tittering laugh grates me
She is the original Pollyanna
Giving them all a piece
She is the leader of the room
We all know.
It is as obvious
Her engaging wit
And talent for loving everyone
Keeps her energy twirling in every direction.
Exhausted watching her,
I look for a corner and sit.
Quietly unobserved,
Invisible
Which is where she finds me
To lift me up and engage me in conversation.
Her keen eye
And caring ways
Are drawn to disengagement
As a hawk is drawn
To a skirmish
Running full out toward it.
Sanguine. Nothing like it!
I’ve sipped my tea then let it fester
Now I search in vain for a wrigleys extra
The seminars over but I’m stuck to my seat
Preferring death to the “meet and greet”
Just how does ‘one’ learn to talk shop
stop...(look, listen)
then thoughtfully digest?
Press the flesh
feign genuine interest
On a range of subjects I loathe and detest
Sparkle (effervesce)
Then work the room like a stale breath sex pest
You’re oozing B eau as you move through the room
Your Pink shirt and pin stripes pre-ordained in the womb
Your hairline
your i-phone
your chin like a shoe
Still when I grow up I’d like to be you
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