Tag Archives: poem about courtship

Wooing Season

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Wooing Season

When they spread the Welcome doormat out and put the drawbridge down,
a dozen different wooers came visiting from town.
Her father set her brideprice at a princely sum,
then settled back to watch her suitors go and come.
He gaged their skill at horsemanship by how they wound their courses,
weaving through the mazes he’d set up for their horses.

He set up jousting matches, thinking he could tell
by which retained their mounts and by which suitors fell,
who might be best suited for his daughter’s hand,
but time spent in combat instead of tilling land
signified an emphasis that although most impressive,
for the landed gentry might turn out to be excessive.

And in the end he chose the one he determined from the start
was the one most likely to win his daughter’s heart.
Watching from the battlements, he saw his daughter’s smile
as he rode ever closer, mile after mile.
He wore no shining armor and his steed was not the best,
but he seemed, somehow, to stand out from the rest.

He rode with calm assurance and when the gates spread wide,
he asked for water for his horse before he came inside.
He shook the dust off of his cloak, then strode into the hall
as though he was a friend already, making his usual call.
And as his eyes fell on their daughter, and hers fell on him,
the lights of other courters seemed to fade and dim.

Daughter, father, suitor strolled out on the land,
and by the time the sun had set, he’d requested her hand.
Soon this last contender had joined his family
And he had a grandchild balanced on each knee.
Thus did a wise father make the best decision, 
exercising thoughtfulness and his keenest vision.

Prompt words today are doormat, spent, princely, gage and emphasis. Image by Cederic Vandenberghe on Unsplash.

Advice to Reticent Romeos

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Advice to Reticent Romeos

If you are greeted with, perchance,
 a flirtatious lady’s glance
in a cabaret in France,
Hedge your bet, bolster your chance,
square your shoulders, hitch your pants
and ask her if she’d like to dance!

If in a tropical lanai
a  cute wahine meets your eye,
do not simply pass her by.
Adjust your smile, straighten your tie,
and claim your portion of the pie.
Use up your life before you die!

Around the globe, it’s my conclusion
that this advice is no delusion.
Confidence with no confusion
that it  may be a mere illusion,
bolsters chances of a fusion!

 

Prompt words today are conclusion,   bolster,  lanai, hedge and cabaret.
Image by Jiang Xule on Unsplash.

Agastopia

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Agastopia

I simply cannot reconcile that glimmer in your eyes
with any look that I’ve received from any other guys.
My friends say you’re perfidious, yet I don’t get that message.
“Danger” is an ending that your gazes do not presage.
If the frustration that I’m feeling is transmitted in my gaze,
perhaps you will decipher it while wandering its maze.
For every time you’re present, I’m a prisoner of pondering
that question in your eyes that always sets my mind to wandering
down pathways we meander, walking hand-in-hand.
So long as you are in my thoughts, my heart is in remand.
We need a kind interpreter to set our looks aright.
Perhaps there’s a happy ending for him to expedite.

 

Prompt words today are frustration, reconcile, agastopia, perfidious and message.

Agastopia: Admiration of  or a fixation on a particular part of someone’s body.

Honey This and Honey That

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Your honeyfuggling habits will not work with me.
Your foreplay is of no effect—just makes me want to pee.
If you want to romance me, you’ll have to get more physical.
This flittering and buzzing just makes me slightly quizzical.
You promise that your tactics will become more auspicious,
but then you call me “Honey” and make me more suspicious.
Your strategies of courtship are too fluttery and free.
I fear that our love story was just not meant to “bee.”

 

 

The prompt word for word of the day is honeyfuggle.

The Hunt

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The Hunt

They primp and they posture and leave parts uncovered.
Few parts of their bodies are left undiscovered.
Pitching their assets, they rip off small parts
of their form-hugging Levis to capture the hearts
and the libido of young men in passing.
It’s part of their flirting and tongue-in-cheek sassing.
Euphoric and giggling or slightly aloof,
they are every boy’s fantasy, out on the hoof.
Equality isn’t their goal or their pleasure,
for the power they yield is more than full measure.

Their cups runneth over. With their charms, it’s a cinch.
If birds were their quarry, no more than a pinch
of salt would be needed to capture their tail.
Their fish have been caught and just writhe in their pail.
Young huntresses all, yet each young man they meet
no doubt finds them guileless–innocent and sweet.
They are slightly misguided—naive in their Dockers,
thinking that they are the ones who are stalkers.
We will not inform them that hunters they’re not.
They just follow the bait until they are caught!

Prompt words today are posture, covered, euphoric, equality and pitch. Illustration downloaded with permission from Unsplash.

Pilot Error

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IMG_5076 2

Pilot Error

His vulgarity made her bashful,
his irreverence drew tears.
He had inadequate finesse
to soothe away her fears.
So though he wished to woo her,
in the end he failed.
When he tried to fly her to the moon,
his passenger just bailed.

Prompt words today are finesse, irreverent, vulgar and bashful.

Office Courtship

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Office Courtship

He found her shy and taciturn and not a little quaint.
She found him impetuous and lacking in restraint.
That personal space she guarded he invaded every day.
Her solo act he tried to crash, yet still she ran away.

He brought her flowers and chocolates. He courted her with rigor,
and yet the space between them seemed only to get bigger.
He had run out of wooing room. His prospects were too dim.
He felt that he had gone too far out that proverbial limb.

His thoughts that he could win her were just a wishful whim.
And so at last, he must give up. The lass was just too prim.
He did not seek her company. He did not text or call.
He gave a mere polite “Hello,” when they met in the hall.

Her flower vase sat empty. No chocolates in her dish.
It seemed that he had given her, finally, her wish.
She checked her phone charge. It was fine.
She waited for his pleas to dine

or see a film or to go dancing.
More and more, friends found her glancing
down the hallway, and they guessed
what she looked for, so they pressed

her for an answer as they queried
about why she always tarried
in the coffee room when she
usually brought her tea

in a thermos from her house.
Why she wore that low-cut blouse,
why she seemed a bit distracted
and when he passed, she overacted.

They all knew that overall
she’d gone too far to build a wall.
They told her if she wanted him,
she had to make that wall a scrim

and turn her light on from inside—

to throw her solo act aside
and show him who she really was.
It became the office buzz

then, how the one who’d been the quarry
set her cap to woo and marry
one she’d formerly eschewed—
thinking him too brash and rude.

And this is how she turned the tide.
She bought a card and wrote inside,
“Faint heart never won fair maid,”
bought flowers and chocolate and paid

a string quartet to serenade him
and by doing so, she made him
once more resume all his wooing,
add his billing to her cooing.

And thus goes office romance.
Fellows given half a chance
will resume what they once started
and if they are not weak-hearted

wind up with the prize they sought,
forgetting that the one who fought
the romance and sought to repeal it
was the one to finally seal it!

 

The photo I used to illustrate this poem is of my nephew Jeff and his wife Julie.  They are the parents of Ryan, my nephew who recently visited. The prompt words today are quaint, personal, taciturn and solo, and here are the links:

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/09/24/rdp-monday-quaint/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/09/24/fowc-with-fandango-personal/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/09/24/taciturn/
https://dailyaddictions542855004.wordpress.com/2018/09/23/daily-addictions-2018-week-38/solo

Cold Weather and the Subtle Art of Wooing

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Cold Weather and the Subtle Art of Wooing

A frozen little nose and frigid little toes
plague my teeny-bopper everywhere she goes,
for she does not cover tender little parts
when the winter comes and when the snowing starts.

Flip-flops on her feet, face naked to the air—
she seems to need to show us everything that’s there.
Little mini-skirts and a tiny cotton blouse
with nary a parka as she journeys house-to-house.

She says the weather’s nothing. She says she isn’t cold,
and she will not listen. She simply won’t be told
by her mother or her father that she should bundle up.
We try to give her mittens, hot cocoa in a cup.

Now once again she’s out of here with a new boyfriend
but without a coat or sweater to protect against the wind.
But then I see her logic. for when she subtly sneezes,
he drapes an arm around her to shield her from the breezes. 

So even though my daughter might seem naive and daft
not taking due precautions against the cold and draft,
there’s a method to her madness. She knows what she is doing.
Instead of dressing for the weather she is dressing for the wooing.

 

The WordPress prompt today is frigid.