After the meal was over

Across the table sat my darling,
All neatly dressed in white.
Her love it showed,
Her face it glowed
With unconcealed delight.

The ballet had been magnificent,
The dancers, quite divine.
And the superb meal
Had made us both feel,
That our sun forever would shine.

So much in love were we just then
That neither of us, were aware
Of the maitre d',
Who stood by me,
Just beside my chair.

A discrete cough then broke our trance
And he said, once my eye he’d caught,
“Will you try our brandy,
“It’s rather dandy?
“Or perhaps you’d prefer some port?”

“Er . . . brandy for me,” I said right away,
“But what about you my love?"
And to my pleasure
My darling treasure
Cooed like a turtle dove . . .
“ . . . oh the port for me,” her eyes tight shut.
“For me it’s the only thing.
“It reminds me of brooks . . .
“ . . . of  shady nooks,
“And, the freshness of early spring.

“Of the promise of summer that is to come,
“And memories of winters past.
“Of cotton-clad clouds,
“Like distant shrouds,
“Dotting the blue so vast.

“Of golden headed daffodils
“Bowing in the gentle breeze.
“Of church bells ringing
“And sky-larks’ singing
“High above the trees.

“Yes, it’s the port for me,” my darling sighed.
And I knew that it came from her heart.
“That fortified wine,
“Will always be mine
“. . . ’sides, brandy just makes me fart!”