the Matchmaker by Mary Ellen SmithThe shoppe was dark and musty, the smell of good old books.
Rows and rows of printed verse in all the aisles and nooks.
The place was just a whisper I could have passed it by,
But something in the window it seems had caught my eye.
The man behind the counter looked wrinkled, wise and worn,
Likely just as pink as the day that he was born.
He smiled a toothy greeting and pressed a book to me
A used and tattered little book, his favorite poetry.
He wouldn't let me say a word, just turned me toward the door,
The little bell was ringing as I stepped out of the store.
I glanced back at the window to see what drew my eye
The sign said "If you're lonely, please do, come inside."
My heart grew faint inside me, I'd never felt so weak.
My eye caught my reflection, as a blush rose to my cheek.
I hurried to the corner where a man on his return,
Ran headlong right into me, and we were soon to learn
We had the same old tattered book, inscribed by the shoppe keeper,
"May your love this moment on, just keep on growing deeper."
10/29/2001 Posted on 10/29/2001 Copyright © 2024 Mary Ellen Smith
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