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Patience on Trial?
I wished we had arranged to meet elsewhere,
I think it's going to rain.
A park bench with no shelter is hardly ideal,
I won't be doing this again.
I wonder if she intends to keep our date
or have I faded from her mind.
At the time I thought she was really keen
and thought she'd be on time.
I know I was early, but that's the way I am
and I don't mind waiting a while,
but a while has stretched to an extreme;
I hope my patience isn't on trial.
The rain has increased in rate and size,
and it's absolutely pouring.
If my friends could see me sitting here
they would think me mad, sad, and boring.
Why didn't I think to bring an umbrella,
she won't see me at my best,
instead I'll look like a water vole
in soaked trousers and vest.
I think I ought to consider leaving
and get out of these wet clothes.
Well, what a nice surprise, my date has turned up,
despite a cold and runny nose.
poem
by
Orlando Belo
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