A Taste of Daisies

My first and only date meant a lot to me... but not for the reasons you'd think.

My first taste of freedom

Came in the form of a stranger

Who had stolen my seat

Your eyes I'll never forget

Such a liquid color

Such a lovely voice

It took three weeks

For me to find a time

When I could sneak away and let you take me

Somewhere, anywhere

On that odd red bicycle for two.

We talked for hours

You stood me up twice

The texts came and went

Until I found the time

You brought long-stemmed daisies

And I laughed

Could I feel any more awkward?

We tied them to the front of the bike

The banner for our strange procession

Two young adults on bike meant to be shared

Oh how the people on US-1 stared!

I didn't understand why you had chosen me

I know other girls would have been better

But you let the awkward teenager try

To learn how to relax

And flirt on the side

The conversation was serious

The chatter light

We stayed until dark in the third park

(The first two had been closed)

And I let you hug me at the end.

I was too shy to let your lips touch my cheek.

I have never known love of either gender

I still don't understand what it was I should have done

Flirting, dating, it all escapes me, just like you did

You never called back, never texted, never appeared

And I let it die, but with a small smile

Because you let me feel under the stars on that one bike ride

That I was my own person,

I was I

And there was a future to be had.

All because you gave me

A taste of daisies.

Reviews

[Gerri Tucker]

Legacy,
Thank you for the review. Haha, conjunctions are my weakness. I'm not really a poem person, but I'll remember that when I attempt to rewrite this. Again, thank you, and I'm glad I could bring back memories. I hope they are sweetly remembered ones.
Gerri

[Legacy]

Gerri Tucker,

We all can take a learning lesson from our first-love or so we call it... A lesson of what to do, what not to do, and possibly what we are searching for? Sometimes, what we learn from them is no one else compares. (as blurred as that vision can sometimes be).

This is a rather nice write, it takes passion to put into words a poem-story like this. You have done well, the only thing I would suggest is to work on those darned conjunctions (they have a way of sneaking into poetry).

You brought back memories of my own, thank you.

Have a wonderful day,

Legacy