A Girl Walked into a Restaurant

I saw her one uneventful night,
A normal shift and nothing more.
I was cleaning in the dining room
When she walked in the door.

She was beautiful. I do believe
A blind man would have turned his head,
And when she looked and smiled at me
There was something there, though nothing said.

She sat to eat all by herself,
And though this was a shame,
I must admit that I was glad
She seemed, as yet, unclaimed.

I wondered if a girl like her
Was into desperate single men,
But true to form I chickened out
And went to hide in the kitchen.

I asked a friend what I should say,
And she gave sound advice.
And with her help and full support,
I thought of something nice.

I walked up front, my heart beat fast,
Though I was ready now.
But she was getting up to leave.
I had to stop her—but how?

Though probably I'd missed my chance,
There was no time to think,
So in one final desperate move,
I offered to refill her drink.

She did not turn around at first—

I'm not sure that she heard.
Again I asked and she said "no."
She left me, hopes crushed, feeling a bit absurd.

I do not know what drink she had—

The one I never brought her.
But this I say with confidence:
She turned down a tall drink of water.

Impatient

Maybe Love will find me when
I least expect her to appear.
Still I—impatient—say to her,
I wish you'd hurry up, my dear.

But who needs sleep anyway?

Late to bed and early to rise

Makes a man wealthy, wise, 

And sleep deprived.

James, will you be my valentine?

...said no girl ever.

It Runs in the Family

My brother recently wrote these inspired lines. There is beauty in the simplicity, but don't miss the deep underlying truths that saturate this single stanza.

Morning dew
As I doodoo
And remember to do
Because it's due

Silence

If time is money
And words are cheap,
Make sure your words are worth the time
Of those to whom you speak.

Love

It occurred to me one Friday night
That love is not some script we write
Or a poem through which we can recite

What love might look like in our minds,
So neatly placed in stanzas and lines.
No such collection can ever define it.

And so you must forgive me, see,
For these last few lines that cannot be
Constrained within my poetry:

You know you're in love, not when you find someone who meets all your criteria for perfection, but when you meet someone who causes your whole definition of perfection to change.