A Student of Love - For Life
A Student of Love (for Life)
Chapter 1:
I’ve found stagecoach to love is a pumpkin on wheels
whose door opens for you when your guard’s at low ebb,
and you dare to step in (though all magic is sin).
I had gone to the opera with an old flame,
a pre-dinner on opening night - ‘La Boheme.’
Room with round tables seating ten patrons of art.
As my ‘date’ spoke at length to cute gal on his left
I had ‘green light’ to talk with the guy on my right,
found meals’ courses well-seasoned with sharing of heart.
He had taught several years near the land of my birth.
I’d spent time as a refugee near his hometown.
He was open, attentive! Asked, shared my cell phone,
(not that common for me with each number correct).
He was white, my skin brown. There were friends he was with,
a school friend from his college, her daughter, between
them. Both women quite plausibly viewed as his wife.
Facts explain, I think now, why my ‘date’ let things ride.
With two children near grown, and no man by my side,
I was truly not aching for trouble in life.
If my ‘date’ had designs, they wore colors less green;
kids are flies in the ointment of wealth and can seethe
at dilution of parent’s estate (disconnect!)
So I balked when he called, though my heart wasn’t stone,
his soft reaching out touched me, did not dress me down
when I failed to respond. But his voice expressed mirth,
our connection affirmed (that he’d felt). Then the part
where he came to my workplace (I ducked out of sight
till he’d gone). Loved my business, close friends, not bereft.
Does a woman need man, fish in sea needs a cart?
But to love is a choice! Choice is rarely a whim
and I sensed there was chance for a choice here, to tame
not to own. With my boys, might this prospect be win?
Separated, loved still by their dad, I had web
strands to clear, and a break loomed ahead of all deals.
Krakatoa Kritic #007
June 28th, 2021
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