Some old writing I found....
She was pretty, and it was winter,
but the time was not right.
Rosy-cheeked, her breath came out
in little frosty clouds and her lips
were bright red and her hair fell
about her shoulders in ringlets.
The laugh sounded real,
and all my jokes were funny,
and I was handsome and
broad-shouldered and spry.
I could dance, and we would spin around
in waltzes and fox-trots and, out of breath,
we would sit down
and I would bring her punch
and she would decline anyone else’s offers
because she had eyes only for me.
I had status and money
and a nice car and clean clothes
and she had parents that loved us both
and invited us for Sunday dinner.
And we would laugh about wholesome things
and her father would take me aside
to talk about sports and smoke cigars.
His firm handshake was full of conviction and good intention,
and my big smile assured him
that his daughter was well-loved and appreciated and pure.
Her mother’s indulgent laugh followed us
out into the cold as we made ready to depart
and she gave me a contrite kiss on one cheek,
for her parents’ benefit, as we pulled out of the driveway.
I think that was written in 2001, whilst I had an unfortunate obsession with an english major fella who considered himself quite the writer... His writing was actually pretty good (in my humble opinion), so I tried my hand at writing that semester more than any other. The results... embarrassing, mostly.