he’s a nice young man dressed neatly in gray
a corsage in his hand – it’s his lucky day
he will meet her soon tho she’s already late
why can’t gals be on time for a set date
tween the watch on his wrist and the wall clock dial
he nervously glances slow pacing the while
then comes to realize she won’t be there
how could she do it she must be aware
what he had planned – a dinner and show
and their future – he feels she must know
that his seeking is more than pursuit by a guy
who wants only to make a fast try
maybe some big thing caused the delay
maybe she’s ill… time slow flows away
he finds her excuses tho he knows he’s “stood up”
he feels like a small sad beaten pup
people stare knowingly some with sly grin
in Christian joy for the fix he is in
an hour goes by his heart is as lead
he sees ahead only his unshared bed
with lump in his throat he would like to cry
but then he won’t for men do not cry
“she won’t get next chance” this with eyes ablaze
tho he knows she will – he silently prays
as in corner he stands now beyond hope…
he visions her with some sly sneering dope
They’re in dim lit room at a cozy night spot
she’s in mood for fun and playing it hot
reaching up she strokes the guy’s hair
with a silly laugh and never a care
more time passes – can woman know
how far man in love for woman will go
his heart’s leaden weight – reason tells he’s a fool
all men are for women it’s nature’s set rule
he curses the bouquet as he slow walks away
he couldn’t afford it – then in reckless dismay
gives it to the little lady at the newsstand
she looks at him numbly he kisses her hand
she silently weeps cheek furrowed tears
no one has given her flowers in forty years
From San Francisco: In, Around and About that City p 192 © Ray H. de Berge Sr.
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