4th April
Burgundy Red
The pile of clothes grows on the bed
And with it, deep inside , so does my dread.
I want to go, yes, I want to, that's for sure
But how am I going to get out the door?
A fiftieth birthday a milestone to celebrate
So I have to be there, she is a best mate .
And I know when I manage to get myself out,
I'll enjoy the whole thing , of that there's no doubt.
So I find some trousers stretchy, comfy and black,
At least I'll be sitting - won't look like a sack
And and old, but fancy top, my colour-burgundy red
The lipstick that matches, yes, it's there by my bed
So I'm ready, but I don't want to be the first one there,
Not know whether to stand and wait or go sit on a chair.
So I leave the house at the time we have set
To meet at the restaurant, so I know I'll be met.
What a greeting I get when I walk in the door,
Champagne on the table and more on the floor.
The intention , it's clear, is to have a good crack
Laughing all evening to the moon and back
Fantastic!
ReplyDeleteYou wrote of a feeling that is common to me, not really wanting to go, dreading and overthinking it all right down to when to arrive and what to do when I get there... and then find that it turns out to be a very good time indeed. I'm glad you went! :-)
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