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Blind Date.(M.P.Bridger)I thought I'd lost my bottle As I neared the glowing eyes That served the village pub as windows That moonless inky night. As brave as Saint George I'd been When agreeing to meet her. But the previous night I had been heavy-lidded, my eyes bloodshot. A staggering lump, slurred of speech With courage bolstered by too many beers. My excitement had risen like a straining balloon As my friend had uttered those immortal words; "She has a friend you know..." When zero hour came A million thoughts and fears Became trapped in my stomach Like Butterflies in a jam jar. My hand sweated on the pub door glass While my head morosely considered That this was worse than any hangover. Pushing the door wide, the dim lights seemed harsh While the log fire warmed my cheeks Already burning crimson. My eyes, peas in a rattle shot round the bar Bouncing off familiar faces Taking everything in during that brief moment I realised she hadn't turned up Slumping onto my favourite bar stool I quietly hugged my cowardice And got drunk with relief. Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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