For so it was as I walked through the Aisle,
That cheap local store for my daily bread,
Unmoved by the signs of 5 percent off,
Now ‘Saving you Money’ baloney-rot,
I then turned the corner and there you were:
Standing , looking at something on a shelf,
Engrossed in a product with Its Tacky embroidery of script and bloated claims.
I opened the meeting with: ‘Hello there’,
Not being the Original of Coves,
But still I will beg the Jury’s pardon,
For I never was Don Juan, Or Jerry Lewis’s ‘Nutty Prof’ after a swift drink.
‘Well I haven’t seen you in a long time’,
So she’s missed me I fool myself to muse.
And then we talk above the cheap Muzak,
My Eyes And Ears only for her alone,
And I listen to her voice; hers, just hers;
No warbler on high or greeting ‘Hello’ from the other patrons nudging past me.
She smiled every now and then with bright eyes;
Make a Priest run screaming to Confession .
In time we said our ‘Goodbyes’ to depart.
And I was left there amongst ‘Uncle Ben’
And Ten-Varieties of lowly Soup.
My Brief Encounter In Aisle Number 6.
Next time I went, I looked down that long Aisle:
Though nothing but the products awaiting.