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Class Reunion

A high school class reunion: an idea so grand
Except for the usual tussle with the hourglass and sand.

Time had not been kind; the days of youth had vanished.
The only fancy clothes that fit were a little bit old fashioned.

She looked at the mirror on the wall; a frightening reflection,
She knew they were all coming; she couldn’t be the exception.

 The old yearbook was lifted from the shelf; she turned to page 10,
And gazed at the picture of her first love, to her he was not forgotten.

Those dark wavy curls caught her attention again.
The tears dropped off her cheeks down onto page10.

Her first love, her prom date and king of the ball,
Her steady beau ‘til college began; they broke up in the fall.

She pined for him; it had been so long; class of 63—
Another glance at the looking glass; her tears made it hard to see.

He went east and she went west; maybe never to meet again,
But she kept a special place in her heart for the one on page 10.

Thirty years had passed, how much have we changed?
Marriages have been full of heartaches and others rearranged. 

The reunion will be on the morrow, a day of anticipation.
Classmates coming from nearly every state in the nation;

She pictured him as if he hadn’t changed, although she no longer looked the same.
She imagined this physical hulk was in someone’s hall of fame.

The assembly was not without its painful moments,
There was no time to relive a romance.

When at last they all were there, no one for whom to wait,
She looked in vain for that dark, wavy haired pate.

While unaware of his presence, not ten feet way from her,
A portly fellow said to George, “Hi, I’m Lester.”

Gone was the dark brown wavy hair that she longed to see again.
Gone was the Charles Atlas body she saw on page 10.

Her body tingled nervously, goose bumps emerged unwanted.
She winced as she cogitated how to approach him, undaunted.

She found the table of memories and lost herself in dreams,
By coincidence he was near her and didn’t recognize her, it seems.

The yearbook page with her photo was plain for all to see,
Then she heard his voice say, “Hey! There is a picture of Marie.”

 “Is she here?” he eagerly asked, as he scanned the little crowd.
The atmosphere absorbed his question, the conversation was so loud.

Her heart palpitated with excitement; she feared it could be heard.
That moment was only seconds away from what she long had feared.

She boldly turned around; reached up and rubbed his shiny head,
And teasingly spoke in jest, “that’s me. And you need a wig instead.”

He gazed at her in total disbelief, as he wiped away a tear.
And for all the things that worried her, there was no cause to fear.

Her modest gain in poundage was not the factor at all,
Her snow-white tresses deterred him not at all.

And then in an awkward moment she found the words to say,
"My husband died two years ago. He would have been here today.”

"And I,” said he, “despite my golden opportunities, never had a wife.
But, with your permission, I am ready to take a turn in my life.”

In a moment of spontaneity, he put his arms about her waist.
And the one time king of the ball would not another minute waste.

 

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