Initial Impressions Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Initial Impressions



Initial impressions of Anne: a portrait
here follows, as of that short trip we relate
in amateur adjectives alliterate,
as ever, in jest, true events will narrate.

'Rise six, arrive seven, I mustn't be late,
my meetings eleven, thereon turns my fate.
I mean to be early, I'm sure they won't wait;
rush, hurry to Roissy, take off is at eight!

At first all goes smoothly, check-in at the gate,
with only a briefcase, no bags overweight,
on tapis he passed me, has he too a date?
We're sitting apart, boarding call all await.

Time flies by. Fly, I try to fix, concentrate,
upon my good fortune and evaluate
alternate employment. The chances seem great
in corporate finance, no more to stagnate.

But minutes and seconds soon accumulate,
and others around us complain, remonstrate;
the plane is delayed, which my plans may frustrate.
I'm bored, chat while waiting, inside fulminate!

For nine-o'clock ticks while no immediate
signs of flight departure as yet emanate
from Air France, 'London's fog bound' so surly they state:
irate travellers round the desk congregate.

Then sounds of activity near indicate
an aircraft is ready, its engines vibrate,
quick, over to B.A., with inquiring gait
I fly, and he follows, to investigate.

Just four total strangers do not hesitate,
adroitly are able to anticipate
the Trident's departure, and seats relocate.
the others remain, though with rage radiate.

Ere onto the runway we accelerate,
we glance at each other, begin to relate.
I, Lady from Lanvin, groomed immaculate;
while he, what can he be, so weary, barbate?

I, Lady from Lanvin, groomed immaculate,
stylish exterior, career orientate,
yet deep down within me, fine fleur feminate
seeks an exit to 'be', both to blossom, create!

There's a gemmed golden clover, conceived chez Chaumet
adorning my finger so fair, annulate,
do not be deceived though, those tips roseate
have also known sorrow, and sadness I hate!

As sedate expressions oft dissimulate
unease, insecurity, I isolate
the sentiment somehow that I'm second rate
by progress in business, false fears compensate.

Ahead in my field, I the rest dominate,
create, affiliate, then amalgamate,
expansion advocate then conglomerate:
this surely must prove I'm not inadequate.

Pieds sur terre, in the air, we do debate.
Merchant Banks' merits, that most denigrate.
He offers the option to collaborate
in equity placing, a job which does bate!

Soon please fasten seat-belt signs flash luminate,
as through dew-decked clouds we dive, decelerate.
Earth rises to greet us, we've landed, brakes grate.
then tired Trident taxis to terminal gate.

Quickly through Customs to where ranked cabbies wait
then speeding past Palace towards Bishopsgate.
Through noon's terrible traffic jam we navigate,
At Cheapside we part, leaving me to my fate.'

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(24 September 1978)
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