Life Postponed


Help me understand the subtleties of a woman
Who only this morning promised to join me for a brew
And biscuits this afternoon on my lawn.
Chairs placed, table laid, in a welcoming spot
Overlooking the lake. 2.55pm tea brewing nicely,
Boiling water kept hot over a candle flame.
Home made shortbread covered with a small fly net.
120 year old bone china tea service, impeccable –
Was my Great Grandmother’s, don’t you know?
A slightly erratic breeze caused no problems,
Napkins encased in pewter rings and table top, solid marble.

3.05pm I sipped alone, staring absently at a rippling lake.
She would have been quite a catch, she delivered my shopping
This morning, as Brian, my usual man, phoned in sick.
Her delivery mode was fresh, bright and breezy,
As opposed to Brian’s more routine approach.
Even asked if I was single and if I got bored
Rattling around such a large domain on my own.
She then spotted Sarah, my bull mastiff.
Sarah immediately took to her, smothering her with kisses
And she, (I later learned her Name was Brenda), returned the affection.
She was near to perfection so I suppose I expected rejection.

Not exactly lack of confidence but maybe age and singularity,
General appearance and apparent status – all cast shadows of doubt.
3.20pm I left the tea table and found safe haven in my study.
Looking through the window I saw Sarah, still waiting for Brenda
I presume. She lay between the two empty chairs as early evening
Shadows swallowed most of the grounds between house and lake.
The phone rang, I lit a cigarette before answering – it was Brenda.
Apologies flowed as I watched Sarah furiously bite at the base of her tail.
Brenda hung up, I was with the fairies, her call was to no avail.
After stealing and devouring the shortbread, Sarah joined me
On the journey upstairs. She sleeps and snores at the foot of my bed.
Boy!! Is that girl faithful, knowing, strong, gentle and so full of love.

A sad old git deserves all he gets
But I don’t deserve Sarah.
I thought I deserved Brenda.
Mind games play faster than my reality.
Or is that a reflection on my aged mentality?

...before you'll be a 'sad old git,' Dear Rusty!

Thanks for the intimate portrait of a day in the life of an English Gentleman, my friend. I always enjoy your work so much. Glad to hear that Sarah is being such a good friend.

Love and Big Hugs,

Alice

You place all the right words and imagery so that the reader is taken right in . Marvelous , could even sip the tea and taste the shortbread here .

Thank you ,



Julie