First Date Poem by Laura Way
First Date
The dress is picked out.
My make-up is done.
But still an hour to go
The suit is pressed.
The flowers are ready to present.
But still half an hour to go.
Sitting on the edge of my seat waiting for the doorbell.
Hoping he’ll arrive early.
But still quarter of an hour to go.
Her address in hand.
Car keys in the other.
It’s time to go.
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4/26/2024 5:09:38 PM # 1.0.0.1119
