(reading time 5.5 minutes)
Maybe she’ll speak to me, at least look, when she passes my way,
I know she sees me leaning on the fence, along the lane every day.
I could reach out and touch her, as she came home from school,
But she walked right by, with nary a glance, and I felt like a fool.
I am sure she noticed me, I was her next farm neighbor, in fact.
Her name was Dolly, and she was really stacked.
My heart would beat rapidly, deeply in my chest,
Praying for a simple “Hello”, was my unspoken request.
But she just passed by me, day after day, walking down the lane,
As I leaned on the rail fence, with my arms splayed, sun or rain.
I was so close to her body, I could actually touch her, with no doubt,
Why did she ignore me, what was that all about?
I imagined I felt her body heat, at least so it would seem,
Oh, that lovely girl, caused me many a restless dream.
She jostled my imagination, at strange hours of the night,
That girl of my dreams, how I wished I may, I wished I might.
In the dark of my room, her image robbed me nightly,
Of a much-needed sleep, her vision shone so brightly.
This shapely young lady, quite disturbing by any gage,
To the hormones of a young boy, especially at my age.
Endowed with all the curves, where they were supposed to be,
Draped tightly with jersey tops, and skirts above the knee.
I dreamed of taking her for a ride, in my model A Ford,
But that didn’t happen, although I had planned her reward.
This was during World War II, my family moved to the city,
I was then no longer a country boy, Dolly was out of my life, what a pity.
I would never again, see my sleep disturbing pretty young girl,
Good- bye Dolly, you missed it, you should have given us a whirl.
It was the end of a romance, destined not to be,
An end of a dream, our chance at love for you and me.
Alas, I met another beautiful young lady, hence made her my wife,
Fifty years passed after I left the farm, and built another life.
One evening I was presenting a seminar, near my old homestead,
Just about five miles from where I lived, and Dolly was bred.
At the intermission of my talk, a lady approached me,
With mousy grey uncombed hair, and missing teeth plain to see.
Unkempt, un-decorous, wearing ruffled and wrinkled clothes,
Summer sandals in freezing March, with unmanicured misshapened toes.
Lacking co-ordinates, un-be-jeweled with distractions, widespread,
She sidled up to me, and in a sexy solicitous voice said:
“Hi Russ, remember me?” “No, I’m sorry.” I asked, “Should I know you?”
“I used to be your neighbor”, she whispered, “and I remember you.
You watched with me every day, coming home from school.”
“Which neighbor”, I asked? “Come on”, she replied, “don’t play cool.”
“When I came home each day, you were leaning on your fence,
You should know me anywhere. Cut the pretense.
You tried every day to get my attention, as I walked by,
You leaned on your fence rail, so close I could hear you sigh.”
“I lived down the lane, in the farm behind yours, 1942.”
“You’re not Dolly”, I gasped? “Can it be true, is it really you?”
I stepped back to get a good look at who this really was,
My blonde dream goddess Dolly, my long lost cause?
I recognized nothing about her and could barely speak out,
I examined her being carefully, trying to remove my doubt.
I then managed to ask her, why she never spoke,
When I hung on the fence to say hello, like good neighbor folk.
She said, her Mother watched down the driveway, using a spyglass,
“She forbade me to talk to you”, threatening that she’d whip her ass.
Even if she looked in my direction, mom threatened the wrath,
Of a mother from the old country, on a much feared warpath.
But now her mother was gone, and she had a husband to mind,
She became a homely sorry old specimen, of womankind.
When I returned home that night, I gazed upon my lovely bride,
Soundly sleeping, awaiting my return to be there, by her side.
I said a prayer thanking God, for his divine connection,
That steered me away from puppy love, in the right direction.
Lord you saved me from a big mistake, by thwarting my pursuit,
And a special thanks to Dolly’s mother, although the point is now moot.
I learned the “age old” lesson, to be careful for what you pray,
Be sure you know what you’re asking for, you may get it someday.
I have seen an example, of how God may deal with a request.
Thank you God, now I know with all things, you really do know best.