Pre-loved (Poetry)

Pre-loved — so imperfect
no firm guarantees
a hopeless romantic —
lone spinster’s disease

She sits in her garden
amid seas of grass
and talks to the birds
as long days dwindle past

She pores over print —
lonely hearts advertised
and hope’s spangled star
brights the blue of her eyes

as she dreams of her prince
circles round in red pen
the curriculum vitae
of well-mature men

who describe themselves modest
while solvent and fit
still keen for adventure
though slowed down a bit

by the natural process —
the sly creep of time
that chips at the corners
and wears off the shine ...

She begins a short letter
on one lilac page
noting her health
isn’t bad for her age

She lists her few hobbies
suggests that they could
meet somewhere for tea
if the weather holds good

Should he answer it’s likely
she’ll take a trip down
to the charity shop
in the old part of town

and select from those rails
a pre-owned fitting dress
refined but resigned
to genteel shabbiness

Yet stylishly tasteful
decent quality too
that’s lasted as she has
the patient years through

but still retains something
of promise — for some
such pass-it-on bargains
prove second to none