The Gentleman

Just a gentleman.

He sat in his chair and lit his brown pipe,

Cigarettes were just simply not his type.

He poured his most expensive and old scotch,

Leaned back and glanced at his father’s old watch.

He was a man from an age that had passed,

Holding on to things that never would last.

A man of fine taste in things such as art,

Romantic and keen, elegant and smart.

In keeping with history and lost ways,

A gentleman from all the great old days.

Author's Note

Please point out any grammar or spelling errors. All criticisms welcome.

Reviews

[Bluefire]

This makes me think you wrote this from a memory or dream of someone who was like that.
This poem is very unique and I think it's well written and clearly tells a story.
Very well done! ^^

[Trevor Jay Bloodworth]

I just have this idea in my head about how more men should be. Grown up, lovers of fine things, and just over all good natured. Glad you liked it!

[Bluefire]

^^ Yeah, the world might be a better place if more people acted that way.

[Sharon L.H. Kelly]

You have painted a vividly debonair man with your pen. Wonderful rhyme and flow!

[Trevor Jay Bloodworth]

Thank you!