Matchless
I fear I am a novice at getting romance right,
for every run I take at love ends up in my flight.
My first love was too cheerful. He was constantly jocund.
His physique was rolly-polly, and in time he grew rotund.
Once I escaped his clutches, I was happier by far,
but my next love was bittersweet, as seconds often are,
for I had found an athlete, less clownish and much fitter,
but I could not keep up with him, so once more love turned bitter.
After that I tried a lawyer, a butcher, then a teacher,
a roust-about, a cowboy, a restaurateur, a preacher.
But nothing ever seemed to work, for those I found disarming
were the ones that always seemed to find me less than charming.
Somehow I never quite matched up when it came to matching.
Every time I fell in love, it didn’t end up catching.
So all-in-all, much as I love a fond embrace and kiss,
I think that when it comes to love, I’ll just give it a miss.
Fiction, folks…no consolations necessary. Prompt words today are escape, novice, bittersweet, jocund and bitter.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 
Glad you indicated that it was fiction. My first reaction was: aww 😦
Enjoyed the poem!
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Ha. Recently I’ve had too many take my poems as fact instead of observations on life so I hope I’ve learned my lesson re/ labeling some as fiction.
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Your real problem is that you are missing your index finger on your right hand…. Who wants a girl that can’t point; but rather gives every man “the finger”~? Instead of saying you are “Matchless” they probably just say: “Oh that one in pointless”~!
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How crass of you to call attention to my digital inadequacies, Sam!!
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I may be crass, but you have a nice ass, there does that fix that sass~?
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Haha! This is hilarious Judy.
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Loved your poem. As a connoisseur of cheating men, I can relate. But 29 years ago God sent me the answer to my prayers and gave him the strength to put up with my brokenness and baggage. One needs to step out of their comfort zone and check different boxes under criteria for sure 😊 then when you stop looking, you’ll find.
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Yes, I’ve been lucky enough to find the right one a few times as well–at least “right enough.”
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Love this one. Reminds me of the Dorothy Parker poem, Pictures in the Smoke:
Oh, gallant was the first love, and glittering and fine;
The second love was water, in a clear white cup;
The third love was his, and the fourth mine;
And after that, I get them all mixed up.
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Ha. Love Dorothy Parker. I still have a collection of her work that was always on the shelf of our house as I was growing up. Your quote makes me want to go locate it and read her again.
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She’s so clever and funny.
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I think we’d welcome her into our group, don’t you? She might find us insufficiently acerbic, though. I am so happy we somehow met up. How did that happen, do you remember? I really value both your and Leslie’s friendships and appreciate the work you go to to maintain them. We’ll have that meeting next year.
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Oh I definitely think we’d welcome her at our own “round table.” And thank you for “acerbic,” that’s the word I couldn’t find when I punched out a quick reply late last night.
As for our meeting–must have been when Harriet reached out to me, interested in creating a private writing retreat for her and some of her friends. She was at the original Writing Conference where I did a couple of workshops…oh don’t even remember the first time. Wasn’t it when we all came to the house you rent at the beach? If I have my dates right–that was in December 2013? 2014? Whenver it was, I’m also so glad. You are an inspiration and a fun and playful companion. And yes, next year!
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Ah.. you did the Lake Chapala Writer’s Conference? If so, I was probably at the lake. Yes, I remember offering my house for the conference so I could attend. That year I had gone to the beach in November.
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Yes, I did that conference in 2007. The first of our Retreats was in 2014 at La Manzanita. And we’ve done them every year but 2020 and now… but just wait 2022!
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Two in Puerto Vallarta, One in La Manzanilla, One in Acapulco and one in the resort across the lake. Where was the other one?
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After La Manzanilla, we went to a little town by the ocean, it had been hit by a hurricane years before. There was a salt factory there and we went to the salt museum and bought kilos of salt. We were in two houses.
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Made me smile again, love your character’s self deprecation and peculiar inability.
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Yeah. Poor Gal. But there is always chocolate.
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