I sat beside a poet
On Sarah’s nuptual day.
I longed to speak of literature –
It would not go away!
A card beside a damask bloom
Encouraged us to write
A note of cheer to bride and groom
– but nothing trite.
I felt inclined to write in verse
But then thought better of it.
I sought to inspire the poet – worse –
Suggested heights of wit…
This could not to be.
Her muse was deaf – but then,
Responding to my plea,
The poet took her pen.
She wrote a line in ink,
“Good fortune, health and wishes”
Paused, head tilted ‘so’, to think,
Then penned a dozen kisses.
This done, she turned to speak once more
To the man she sat beside.
“I do believe it’s poets’ law
to become completely dried.”
“I do not have a verse at all,
I could not do it better.
You should have broken through the wall
And freed me from my fetter.”
The man returned her gaze, forlorn,
His eyes deep grey with sorrow.
His gift inevitably gone –
Would it return tomorrow?
The bride’s mama then spoke to me
“Have you talked about your book?
I thought you two would be
So much alike.” The poet’s look
Shot under querying brow
Was eloquent and gruff.
I knew this gifted lady now
Had heard of books enough.
Politely I declined to seek
A deeper friendship there.
The earth goes to the bloomin’ meek
Not them as boasts of ‘flair’.
So let’s all toast the the bride and groom,
As they start their married life.
Let’s talk to others in the room
And avoid potential strife!