Reset Password
Reset Link Sent
Blogs > yesmamallthetime > Mellifluous Musings |
A Stranger With Charisma. A Poem
A Stranger With Charisma. A Poem Where are the sweepers? The men who can sweep A woman off her feet? Hit her with emotions She never saw coming? Is there any man left With that kind of charisma Like Cary Grant Or Richard Gere Or any actor Playing James Bond's character? Were they just Hollywood's rendition Of leading men When it came To suave seduction? Do men have the ability To make women swoon In reality? I can attest to a few Stranger moments Of men who had a gift. The man on the midnight train From Boston to NY When I was around twenty He was not overt In his actions In fact he explained He had just left a rendezvous With a woman whom He had a long distance relationship. They sadly both knew It would probably be their last. I can barely remember What I looked like I probably was dressed well My hair was probably Of shoulder length With a slight wave. After all It was the eighties I might have been Wearing makeup Or at least lip gloss. Oh and earrings. Then I really Liked that accessory. This handsome stranger Asked to sit across from me The seats were somewhat taken I did not think it suspicious Of a come on But I can profess to Butterflies fluttering In my stomach. He really resembled The actor Tim Matheson. Tall, dark hair With blue eyes. He was talkative. It was pleasant Not at all overbearing. He told me about himself. He was a salesman For Siemens. He was from Pittsburgh. He told me his name Which if it was the truth Was Felix Miller. Should I have said that? I mentioned him in Another poem I wrote About traveling by train How it should be an alternative To driving and flying For various reasons. That long ago stranger He was getting off in NYC I was continuing on To Philly. So he had a suggestion Could he massage my hands To get me to relax And possibly get some sleep. Ah! It was a friendly gesture. Remember he had just Left his girlfriend I was not the greatest looking I was just ordinarily pretty To be perfectly honest. And so he sat next to me And administered His kindness That I will never forget A hand massage That he might not Have thought erotic But it was haunting. It made me think That they do exist Handsome strangers With charisma Who have nothing to gain But have plenty to give. Too bad nothing has Come close to such an act In the following decades. The sweepers They could take some pointers Be kind to strangers Don't be overt Act nonchalant You will leave an impression That says this man Is not a jerk! That he has a heart! That he can be debonair And suave. It's true Felix Miller Resembled a movie star But had he not engaged In conversation And been thoughtful Of my need for rest He would not have Haunted my dreams For decades. Independently Romantic Sounds Better Than Lonely |
|||
|
To be honest when I started this poem I didn't know where I was going with it... And then I remembered my train companion and just how incredible it was. Lol Do you think I should have said his name in this poem? There are a lot of Felix Millers. I was never able to find him. Independently Romantic Sounds Better Than Lonely
|
Become a member to create a blog