a poem

so, once more without the work to do, I found myself writing. Only this time it was a poem.

Comments welcomed

 It was umpteen years of waiting,

And a lesser number praying,

All that time anticipating,

‘fore our paths in life were met.

You and I were advertising,

Summaries so tantalising.

With no pictures compromising,

On that wondrous internet.

Back in June you caught me waving,

And you, waving back, were braving-

The so risky face to facing,

With someone you’d never met.

Soon enough we found us Skyping,

About Wombles we were hyping,

Never speaking, only typing.

The excitement. And Smurfette!

And then, oh, we had a meeting,

By the Bentalls Centre- fleeting?

Oh no chance, it was all evening,

Where we walked, and talked and ate.

The time we were quickly using,

And too early you were choosing.

To go home, ‘it’s late’, for snoozing,

To think if Romeo you’d met?

I myself returned to Reading,

With my car itself a threading,

Through the other cars me heading,

Thinking were you Juliet?

Over weeks that passed, our meeting

Moved from walking, talking, eating,

To the cinema, and greeting-

With a hug and kiss? You bet!

But then all those years of waiting,

And the shorter years of praying,
And the long anticipating,

Made me keen to push it yet.

And the history of your courting,

Caught us up, and found us wanting,

Or at least it prompted thinking,

Of the people who we’d met.

I pushed on, I asked for fighting,

And at first it was not frightening,

For the fears they were a hiding,

Ready to arise and set.

But too soon the fears came crashing,

To us both. Though I was bashing-

Them away, they started trashing,

All the foundations we’d set.

Oh the ground it was a-shaking,

And we found ourselves awakening,

To the paths which we were taking,

Which showed too soon we had met.

So one night we met in Sonning,

And discovered we were conning,

One another in still thinking,

That the two of us were set.

And it pained me in the sounding,

When I said you need a grounding,

In the God who feels He’s hounding,

Me, saying 'go of her, you let’

So I let go of you, hurting,

For the best for both, deep, knowing,

That at present time we’re going,

In two lines apart, so set.

But now some time on I’m thinking,

That although we were a-sinking,

Now you’ve started with your studying,

And some time apart we’ve let.

Could there be a new beginning?

Could we, together, be a grinning?

Could there be a happy ending?

Where we join, and we are set.

Starting  simply, where we’re dating,

And the fears they are abating,

And you’ll find us oft debating,

About our friend, Madame Cho-let.

So right now, again, I’m waiting,

I’ll admit that I am praying,

In my heart anticipating,

For a future with us yet.

Now I’ve been so honest telling,

About where my brain is dwelling.

Oh, I hope you don’t run yelling-

From this amateur poet.

And I hope that you are willing,

(Oh to me it would be thrilling),

If your answer would be saying,

You and me? let’s try it yet.

So I leave this poem pending,

Waiting to receive it’s ending.

And I hope it’s more than friending,

In the future, well, ?