Love’s Lost and Found
They had met one night in the pub.
She was there with friends.
He was there for the grub
but that’s not how the story ends.
They were on-and-off for a time.
It simply seemed they did not rhyme.
They wouldn’t fit into a poem of love
for he was a squawking magpie
and she, a cooing dove.
He was of the city streets
and she of the boulevard.
A stained glass window was she
but he was a broken shard.
She lived in a manor house high on the hill.
His home was nothing but run-of-the-mill.
She lived in luxury like a lady.
He paid rent to his landlady.
Well endowed was she, with looks and loot.
He was an ordinary man of disrepute.
She was a part of the upper crust.
He was a part of every dustup.
She was wealthy, with a ticket to leave.
He was broke, with his heart on his sleeve.
She listened to his plea, but chose to head west.
He was left with a broken heart…. and bed rest.
She finally wrote after three years had passed.
He read her letter, written on fancy paper.
It was about herself and New York’s skyscrapers.
He was elated for she mentioned their love, at last.
He took a flight late one night
to New York city and its bright lights.
A taxi (or was it a cab?) for a long ride
to 953 5th Avenue Upper East Side.
The doorman stopped him at the door.
“May I help you, Sir? Which Floor?”
“I don’t know. I’m looking for Grace.”
The church is two blocks that way,” he said snidely.
“No, no. I’m looking for Grace Riley.”
“No one here by that name, Sir.”
“There must be. It was on my letter from her.”
“From your accent, Sir, perhaps you mean Mrs. Jennings?”
“I’m not sure. Can you call her, tell her it’s Peter.”
“ Peter…. and your last name?”
“Oh, Darby, Peter Darby, still the same.”
On his return the doorman confirmed
“It’s all O.K. Mr. Darby. Let me help you with your things…. Sir.”
“No, that’s alright I can manage.” replied Peter.
“Right Sir, but I have to unlock the penthouse elevator. I have the key.
This way. It’s the last one on the right, Sir.”
Peter took the elevator that opened onto the penthouse apartment.
Grace was standing there….Pregnant.
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Author:
MendedFences27 (
Offline) - Published: May 10th, 2025 17:34
- Comment from author about the poem: Been a while. Hope you like it.
- Category: Love
- Views: 13
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15, Caring dove
Offline)
Comments7
A grate tale I needed the smile. Loved the story.
Thanks, SB. Keep on smiling.
Love? A cliff hanger of a yarn with a bun rather than bouquet as reward. Entertaining.
Thanks, DD. Feel like I've been hanging onto a cliff the last few months, but now I'm back.
Well stay back please.....!
Good fun write Phil, good to see you back.
Andy
Thanks, Andy. Glad to be back.
Definitely loving this, I feel like I've just watched an entire romantic movie, ah feathered friends of sorts, turned into something that may last a lifetime, A man's pride verses money. I've enjoyed this so much, loved your ending, I'm a sucker for a happy endings and you gave it. Brilliant imagery and atmosphere dear Phil, I've missed your work sir. 🌹
Thanks, Teddy. Been in the midst of a writer's block (It happens from time to time), but hopefully it may be gone with the arrival of Spring. Hoping for the best.
An enjoyable read with an ending he didn't expect, nicely done
Thank you, PL. I love surprise endings.
You are very welcome
Worth the wait but the absence wasn't easy. 🕊️🙏🏻
An engaging and good writing .. I like it ! Sometimes people are too different and sadly not made for each other ..
I love the mention of the magpie and the dove .. yes , too very different birds
Nice to read this
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