Moments Notice

Two tickets for the show- already paid.
Our dinner reservations have been made,
But as I watch you fixing up your hair
The thought occurs that we ain’t going there.

It’s just like you and me without a doubt
This problem when we’re trying to go out.
For us it has become a special game
Of making accusations, who’s to blame?

My fault, the sly remark- “You’re looking hot.”
Your fault, “Smell my new perfume that I got.”
My fault, I sniff too close and kiss your neck.
Your fault when you return the little peck.

My fault, “Oh baby what you do to me.”
Then you go feeling my sincerity.
I call to stop the dinner plans at least,
For you and I will know a better feast.

Our passion makes the best of plans undone,
But you and me are just the purest fun.
Leave plans for those who do not know their bed
Is where they should be spending time instead.

John H. Bidwell