She was going on a blind date - it had been so many years,
more than thirty, she remembered. Oh! she had so many fears.
'Oh Gran contain your excitemint' - she heard her Lucy say
'He might be a total fruit cake, so please don't get led astray.'
She had laughed inside to hear that advice from a lass so young,
and recalled the last time words of guidance had come from her Mum,
who long gone and now in Heaven, was doubtless rolling her eyes,
and indeed what Mum was thinking, she would rather not surmise.
Her old Mum had been a teacher, witty, quick with repartee,
seems her daughter shared that humour- 'twas as dry as dry could be
For a quip or synonym rolls off her tongue with scarce a thought,
and her words would seldom fail to be a fast verbal dreadnought.
They were meeting in the gardens of a park close to their town,
for a coffee and a bite to eat, the choice was neutral ground.
Just a mere passage in thyme , a pleasant stroll amongst the flowers,
and if they didn't hit it off, then all she'd lost were hours.
She set off , expectations high, her nerves were all a'flutter,
sincerely hoping he was nice and not a total nutter.
And nice he was, a gentleman, well dressed, handsome, well spoken,
who shyly presented a rose - purely a friendship token.
Together they both strolled along admiring plants and view,
the Oriental teahouse, the shishi odoshi too,
a roo with a tiny Joey peeking out at its surrounds.
As they wandered, both were entranced by mellifluous bird sounds.
They sat out on the restaurant deck, enjoying the cool breezes,
an order placed for pots of tea - the beverage that pleases.
He thought her a cool cutecumber. She thought him one hot tamale,
a well travelled, interesting man, just returned from Bali.
The conversation and tea flowed, their blind date was a winner,
they set a date to meet again - this time for wine and dinner.
Seems age was not a barrier, nought to fear but fear itself.
Stepping outside one's comfort zone beats sitting on the shelf.
