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Pyjama Game

He stands, as we are introduced,
Looking better than I thought possible.
Glad now I wore the bootlace dress
That reveals and lightly just conceals;
The evening now has possibilities.
I know all the others at 'our' table;
We're the 'two spares'
Adrift in a tide of 'couples'.
Black tie looks so nice, but I wonder
Would he look as good in pyjamas
And early morning stubble?
But I'm getting ahead of myself,
And for this evening
He is only my 'blind date'.
On the dance floor
He does strange things with his arms;
I edge closer to the band
Wondering if I'm too old to be a 'groupie'.
He's better sitting down, less noticeable,
I take a slug of wine
As he bores me about 'spread sheets'.
Four courses later, I'm struck by irresistible thought:
Would hot, black coffee in his lap
Stop him BORING ME?
I catch the eye of matchmaking friend
Vowing never to let her arrange again;
The strange vicissitudes of being
Single in life's game.
I turn and face my evenings escort
As tumbled thought reverberates in my mind
That personally, I prefer men naked in bed,
And he's the type that would definitely wear
Paisley patterned pyjamas.

Poetry by Elle