A dreaded, weekly, pesky chore,
Shopping at the grocery store,
Lord knows it isn't any fun,
Though it's a job that must be done.
But one day at that dull event,
True love bloomed by accident,
"Do you think," the old man spoke,
"The rain will hurt the cantaloupe?"

He looked at her with an impish grin,
Over her glasses, she looked back at him,
"The silly old fool," went through her mind,
But she did not wish to be unkind.
"No," she quipped back, "I don't think so,
But it could hurt the rhubarb, though."
"Ahh ... sharp lady," the old boy judged,
He grinned some more; she smiled and shrugged.

Then he laughed outloud, and so did she,
Both amused at their repartee,
They moved their carts on down the aisle,
Each suppressing foolish smiles.
They met again at the potatoes,
Next their hands brushed at the tomatoes,
Both were flustered ... both turned pink,
Neither, knowing what to think.

Through the canned goods then they moved,
He stretched high and low to get her food,
In frozen foods, with cold, they shuddered,
But their sly glances warmed each other.
After fozen foods, they reached the meats,
By then, both hearts were skipping beats,
"Lettuce," said he (another joke?)
She giggled then, which gave him hope.

"Let us stop for a cup of brew,
Cream or sugar?  One lump or two?"
"None," she said, "But how very nice,"
She dropped her eyes and thanked him twice.
Coffee in white styrofoam cups,
They sat on a bench and drank it up,
Then gallantly he pushed her cart,
Out to where her car was parked.

He helped her load her groceries in,
Then asked if he'd see her again,
"Each Wednesday," she said, "I grocery shop,
I should be here at Two O'clock."
"Good-bye, dear lady, until then,
Oh, by the way, my name is Glen."
"My name is Susan; call me Sue,
I'll look forward to seeing you."

When she pressed the pedal to the floor,
Her car took off with a mighty roar,
"Farewell ... So long ... Adieu ... sweet Sue,"
Under his breath, he said, "I love you."
Sue beeped her horn and smiled and waved,
Indeed, dear Glen had made her day
Ahh ... chemistry at the grocery store,
More than each had bargained for.

One never knows what's around the bend,
Or when one may make a great, new friend,
No matter one's age; no matter one's state.
Love's always welcome ... early or late.

One cannot know where Cupid roams,
(He sometimes hides in stupid poems.)
But ain't it a kick ... and ... ain't it fun,
When one discovers love's begun!

Virginia (Ginny) Ellis
Copyright July 2006

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