Perfect Night #842
poem by:
Wendy Darling
Written
on Jan 15, 2017
He picks me up like always. We drive awhile to find the Perfect place to eat. Opening the door for me, He makes me feel like a queen. The waiter is perfect. The table is perfect. Dinner is perfect. We laugh and tell stories. I tie up my hair, He tells me to leave it down, Keep it soft. And I do. He drives me home And I invite him in To open his present. I chose the perfect wrapping His favorite colors. He says 'you made it yourself?' I did, but I feel awkward. I chose each part, searched for hours. Made the perfect present. Embarrassed, I mutter something Ridiculous. A touch of the small of my back, Lingering hug and a kiss on my cheek. Standing at the bottom of the steps, He smiles up at me. I had a nice time, he says. His stance is perfect. His smile is perfect. The porch light on his face is perfect. Come back inside, I whisper. But, he's already gone.
Tags: love, hope,
Add Comment
Josephina DeGraeve commented:
Well written, the words flow very nice and smooth, and it is heartfelt.
Cecilia Crasto
commented:
The perfect gentleman, hard to find these days, but wish he'd stayed, next time maybe...well done.
Christopher Russon
commented on May 04, 2018 at 9:40pm
A perfect night to remember. Excelent.
