You phoned one day to say,
"A gala affair..." To wear
Best dress and hat and all the tricks,
To meet you at the club at half past six.
I started then, at ten,
My hair to curl and swirl
And set with soft-brushed grace, just so
To fit in and around my new chapeau.
My gown was new; earrings too.
Heels for display. All day
I wished and wondered what you'd say
When I presented self in grand array.
At six, half past, I gasped.
You came toward me, thrillingly!
Feigning casualness, I rose.
You said, "You've makeup streaks across your nose."
