Understandingi Poem by patricia Northall

Is it me you leave each morning
With face so plain and hair so free?
Do you really know who is me?
It is the receptionist who offers you coffee
In her latest fashion of seamed stockings
Stilleto heels, and dazzling smile that appeals.

You accept with such masculine charm
From the waitress who stands at your arm,
The eyes that really can flirt
As you weigh up the length of her skirt.
These are the moments of interest,
Because, I know how good they make you feel.
For me they are only fantasies
That once were very real.

But now, in the evening when you look at me,
The reflection you see in my eyes
Is, her man maybe very tired,
But, she hopes he is also very wise.