About twenty years ago <br />Two girls came in where I worked - <br />A bosomy English rose <br />And her friend in specs I could talk to. <br />Faces in those days sparked <br />The whole shooting-match off, and I doubt <br />If ever one had like hers: <br />But it was the friend I took out, <br /> <br />And in seven years after that <br />Wrote over four hundred letters, <br />Gave a ten-guinea ring <br />I got back in the end, and met <br />At numerous cathedral cities <br />Unknown to the clergy. I believe <br />I met beautiful twice. She was trying <br />Both times (so I thought) not to laugh. <br /> <br />Parting, after about five <br />Rehearsals, was an agreement <br />That I was too selfish, withdrawn <br />And easily bored to love. <br />Well, useful to get that learnt, <br />In my wallet are still two snaps, <br />Of bosomy rose with fur gloves on. <br />Unlucky charms, perhaps.<br /><br />Philip Larkin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wild-oats/
