A dreaded, weekly, pesky
Shopping at the grocery store,
Lord knows it isn't any
Though it's a job that must be done.
But one day at that dull
True love bloomed by accident,
"Do you think," the old man
"The rain will hurt the cantaloupe?"
He looked at her with an impish
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
But it could hurt the rhubarb, though."
"Ahh ... sharp lady,"
the old boy judged,
He grinned some more; she smiled and
Then he laughed outloud, and so did
Both amused at their repartee,
They moved their carts on down the
Each suppressing foolish smiles.
They met again at the
Next their hands brushed at the tomatoes,
Both were flustered
... both turned pink,
Neither, knowing what to think.
Through the canned goods then they
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
By then, both hearts were skipping beats,
"Lettuce," said he
She giggled then, which gave him hope.
"Let us stop for a cup of
Cream or sugar? One lump or two?"
"None," she said, "But how
She dropped her eyes and thanked him twice.
Coffee in white styrofoam
They sat on a bench and drank it up,
Then gallantly he pushed her
Out to where her car was parked.
He helped her load her groceries
Then asked if he'd see her again,
"Each Wednesday," she said, "I
I should be here at Two O'clock."
"Good-bye, dear lady, until
Oh, by the way, my name is Glen."
"My name is Susan; call me
I'll look forward to seeing you."
When she pressed the pedal to the
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
Indeed, dear Glen had made her day
Ahh ... chemistry at the grocery
More than each had bargained for.
One never knows what's around the
Or when one may make a great, new friend,
No matter one's age; no matter
Love's always welcome ... early or
One cannot know where Cupid
(He sometimes hides in stupid poems.)
But ain't it a
kick ... and ... ain't it fun,
When one discovers love's