‘Quarter Past’ To ‘Quarter To’

Quarter Past To Quarter To long poem

Photo by carterse

I went for dinner; she came on a date…

Waited for her until a quarter past eight…

She walked in, looking like a million dollar,

Anyone else would’ve known, but I’m no scholar…

She ordered for some strawberry and wine,

I still don’t see her intent; I’ve just come to dine!

Biting into the strawberry, suggestively she winks,

‘She must really really love her wine with that’, me thinks!!

We strike up conversations on her work and her recent days…

Playing with her hair all the time, not once breaking eye gaze…

Dinner’s over and I offer to driver her to her abode,

I felt her eyes scanning me for as long as we rode…

Outside her door, I say goodbye, It’s time for me to go

‘It’s pretty cold…wanna come in for a cuppa Jo?’

So I’m in her house, waiting for the warm beverage,

Flaunting a racy negligee, she walks to me holding leverage…

Everything that followed seemed a bit blurred…

This night didn’t really go as I’d once preferred…

Birds are chirping, I’m staring up at her ceiling,

Not absolutely sure as to what I should be feeling…

I was sure I’d gone into a dinner, But now I’d left a date???

I’m still confused, as I walk out of her house at a quarter to eight.

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2 Comments on "‘Quarter Past’ To ‘Quarter To’"

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Chandrama Deshmukh

Your poem is just like your bio – Cynical. Impulsive. Passionate.
Couldn’t help reading it to the last word. Love your style of writing.


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