Looking for Love

Sometimes we don't appreciate what we have...

 

We married when we were just nineteen,

I thought her a perfect catch,

We'd fallen in love on the day she came

To watch, at a football match,

I'd fallen badly, injured my leg

And was subbed in the second half,

She came to the dressing room, and tied

My leg with her silken scarf.

 

She said that she was a trainee nurse

And practice was better than none,

I told her I was a graduate,

I'd be limping from now on,

We took a seat at a coffee shop

And stayed for the afternoon,

As I gazed at her dark brown eyes and hair,

And she smiled at me in the gloom.

 

Our romance whirled us on at a pace

That was breathless, with content,

Whatever our fate would hold for us

We were sure that it was meant,

I ceased to notice the other girls,

And she looked only at me,

We tied the knot on a fresh Spring morn

As we stood by a willow tree.

 

We made our home in a city flat

Close to her hospital,

I studied and crammed for my Ph.D.

Not counting the cost at all,

But soon we were way behind in the rent

And moved on out to the burbs,

Life was more difficult than we'd thought,

We grew our own vegies, and herbs.

 

She worked three shifts, and came home tired,

And I would study all night,

Then one came in as the other went out,

I felt that it wasn't right,

We argued then, and we made it up,

Then we argued a little more,

She said she'd go to her parents then,

But I just barred the door.

 

We'll just have to work it out,' I said,

'We can't go giving up now,

I know that I love you, Sylvia,

And things will improve, somehow.'

'I love you too, but it's such a mess,'

She cried, and dabbed at her tears,

'There's not enough money to buy a house

And there won't be, not for years.'

 

I shelved my studies, applied for a job,

The money was not very good,

I'd studied for years, and there was I

In a sawmill, cutting wood.

I suddenly felt resentful then

To be wed to a low-paid nurse,

She'd lost that spark in her eyes that said

I love you, better or worse.

 

We slowly drifted apart, she'd work

An extra shift when she could,

While I would prowl in the nightclubs

Where the folk were up to no good.

I drank a lot, got bleary eyed,

Came home, hung-over and grim,

While Sylvie began to ignore me,

Often went out as I came in.

 

One night at a Club, I saw a girl

Blonde hair and the bluest eyes,

Dolled up in a mini skirt so short

It attracted all the guys,

She danced and shimmied around the room

And giggled and seemed like fun,

She made me think of my Sylvie

Now that the spark and the fun had gone.

 

Each Wednesday night I saw this girl,

But she never looked at me,

I grew obsessed as I followed her,

It compounded my misery.

I'd get up close and she'd whirl away

And dance with another guy,

I'd like to have gone and talked to her

But I guess I was feeling shy.

 

For weeks I had tried, got close to her

But then couldn't squeeze out a word,

I felt myself falling in love again

But knew that was quite absurd,

For Sylvie was there at the back of my mind,

I couldn't quite block her out,

But then when the blonde whirled past again

My heart would jump into my mouth.

 

There came the day that I followed her home,

She lived in the burbs, like me,

We both caught the number seventeen

Though she was ahead of me,

I sat at the back and hid myself,

We came to my usual stop,

Then to my surprise, the blonde stood up

Walked down the aisle and got off.

 

I wasn't that far behind her then

But she hurried away, and ran,

I thought it strange, and increased my pace

But she left me behind at the Strand.

She turned the corner, into my street

But then she had disappeared,

My heart was pounding, I almost ran...

Could it be what I really feared?

 

I walked unsteadily into the house,

But stopped at the kitchen door,

For there was Sylvie, a wig in her hand

A blonde that I'd seen before,

She grinned at me, popped her contacts out

And said, 'Hi, where have you been?'

Then laughed, and I saw my Sylvie again

As I'd seen her at just nineteen.

 

We made the most passionate, frantic love

With her blonde wig back in place,

'I thought that I'd teach you a lesson,' she said,

With a sly look on her face.

And since that day I've been cured of straying,

Each time she comes through the door,

She's a blonde, brunette, a redhead yet...

What red-blooded man could want more?

 

David Lewis Paget

 

 

Reviews

[Gheeneil]

Wedding is not the measurement of love. It is the preparation to something more serious---the marriage! When all excitement is gone, true love comes in. In marriage, it is almost always the case. One of the couple, or maybe both, will probably find something new---an outlet---as to experience once again the excitement. It's just so lucky that, in this piece, the other finds way to bring back the flame when her man almost falls into the thought of infidelity. Perhaps, that's how things should work in marriage: Help each other out when the other feels weak. I like this bec it's very realistic.

[Marie]

Okay. I thought this was going to be another story of a too-young marriage gone wrong. But you kept this couple together with a neat little twist. I hope he appreciate his Sylvie now; I know that he doesn't deserve her.

[bluessadmood]

Oh that was really wonderful my friend ,just perfect..
i really loved the review of my friend Sundea,its very wise..
And yes there could be a strong love that would end in marriage..only the difficult life and the true world
will try to break it ,both love and marriage ,then how sad it would be..love should never die,and so marriage
for its like a promise,friends to the end,whoever drops of,he will lose respect..there should be sacrifices on both sides
when times are tight and hard,everything should be done to keep love alive,its so cruel to break anybody heart
just for a silly whim,for we should remember we made a vow,and love should never die..breaking anothers heart is like a murder or a sin ,for you are killing her soul and everything that she believed in..i am glad at the turn at the end ,she was very clever to come to save
a beautiful love and a beautiful marriage,i really loved this story,how wonderfully you told it,and the end was so happy
lovely write..

[C.T. Bailey]

Oh yea..you already know what I'm thinking. Wonderful story of loved renewed. I especially liked your use of the enjambment in the third stanza. I felt in touch with this piece...up until the ending....then found myself envious of the gent. Very nice David...as usual...

By the way...a friend of mine in Adelaide, who after I had mentioned you to him, asked me to ask you....if you were a "Cousin Jack?" I said I would, and therefore I have just. Take care my friend...still hoping to make my way to Adelaide soon.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

While a narrative poem, I can still feel a bit of your own heart in this wonderful poem. Unlike most of your other poems, this one seems to ring of truth and personal experience. It also reminded me of one of the episodes of "Desperate Housewives," where Lynette's husband couldn't make love to her because she was bald from chemotherapy. She proceeded to where wigs and began to roleplay in order to excite him. It was great for them both.

Great job, as always!

[BABSIE BEE]

Fantastic !! I could,nt read it fast enough to find the end result. It made me smile then laugh then sigh !!! So my friend...you must have done a good job here...well done and Thanks for sharing.
Babsie Bee xx

[Sarah Hawkinson]

Haha I really liked that. Here I thought this guy was going to cheat, then I thought Sylvie would be upset that he was following another girl. What a strange relationship they have! I really enjoy your writing style. You're very good at telling a story.

[Mark]

What a delight, David!
True love conquers all the ennui, the financial hardship, the boredom, the angst, the temptations.
Sylvia's is a true love, and though he had forgotten it, his was as well.
Would but that all could work out so beautifully, with a lot of undefiled love and a dash of mischief!