They sat there on the comfortable sofa...
In the quiet of her living room...
That soon they would be embracing
Together as one he was to assume...

But that moment never materialized...
As he shot glances directed her way...
She was fully entranced with the telly
It became clear it wasn’t his day...

It was impossible to read the situation...
He was no longer in control...
The outcome had become unpredictable...
She was resistant to his clever cajole...

His irresistible charm was failing...
His come hither lines were rebuked...
No matter how Latin his accent became...
It was apparent she couldn’t be duped...

So when he suggested they kiss
She finally began to scoff...
He arrived at the inevitable conclusion
That all chances with Betts were off...

So he acted the proper gentleman
As he quietly licked his wounds...
And watched the rest of the movie
In kinship with broken hearted buffoons...

As soon as the movie was over
The thought of dessert was nowhere in sight...
He made haste to exit the opened door
And rode off into the cold, lonely night...

Sometimes we might have to step backwards
To move forward in one’s game...
For to capture a lady’s affection
One must move slowly to light her flame...

But as all interested women will tell you
That even though he struck out tonight...
While he may have lost this one battle
One must never give up the fight...

© 2020 Jeffrey Pipes Guice