And a folded, white handkerchief.
And data of doubtful worth.
And correlated math.
He's aware of both within.
Conjugating Latin verbs
Puts a wry smile on his face,
And mulling over Shakespeare
Makes him stop and stand in place.
A wealth of information
Is stored within his mighty brain,
He may forget his home address,
But Einstein's Theory still remains.
Self-centered? Yes, I guess,
Selfish? In a way,
Egotistical? For sure,
Lonesome? I should say.
His head, mostly in the clouds,
Though both feet are on the ground,
So busy cogitating,
He seldom looks around.
He never saw the pretty lady,
That taught across the hall,
Though for years he'd said, "Good morning,"
And doffed his hat and all.
Then one nasty, rainy day,
They collided at the door,
Their books and papers strewn about,
And scattered o'er the floor.
The epitome of courtesy,
He retrieved the things that fell,
He designated his and hers.
But he did not separate them well.
"I beg your pardon, Madam,"
He said, handing her some books,
"No ... those are yours," she smiled,
"Here ... take another look."
Their two heads bumped together then,
And next their fingers brushed,
"Ahem," he cleared his throat,
Unaccustomed to such touch.
Electricity began to flow,
Between the two unwitting souls,
May I borrow a book sometime?"
He asked, fearful of seeming bold.
Emotion welled within him,
Quite flustered he became,
"I'd like to introduce myself,"
But then forgot his name.
With his vast store of words,
And his impressive education,
The man was at a total loss,
In this present situation.
What? Something he knew not!?
Something he'd not seen or read?
What was this odd phenomenon,
Sending strange thoughts through his head?
For a moment he felt young again,
Would he could jump and click his heels,
What a charming little lady,
And so full of 'book appeal.'
"Have you read Whazzizname?" he asked,
(His favorite bard all through the years,)
"Possibly," she smiled sweetly,
"If you are referring to Shakespeare."
"Oh-h," she knew! He sucked in his breath,
What a wonderful creature he'd found!
But then he saw that Shakespeare's Sonnets
Were among the books upon the ground.
A wise man, this odd professor,
With his bumbling, stumbling ways,
He doffed his hat and said, "Good-bye,"
No way could he be swayed.
But, yet this chance encounter
Excited and intrigued him,
And the lady, too, who was no fool
Knew that she had pleased him.
Thus ... many odd years later,
On their anniversary, they laughed,
How she said, "Hi!" when he said, "Good-bye!"
And how they became attached!
Virginia (Ginny) Ellis
Copyright July 2003 ~ Revised April 2007