He was a perfect gent, <br />Who having thus been lent, <br />This, Oh such precious key, <br />With which to view a property, <br />Which he hoped she might like to buy. <br />She'd deemed him a lovely guy. <br /> <br />He was a perfect gent, <br />Who seemed to be intent, <br />On making so sure that she, <br />Felt absolutely free, <br />To look around the place, <br />And, perhaps, consider it her base. <br /> <br />He was a perfect gent, <br />Who seemed to be content, <br />To follow just behind <br />Her, whilst she was thus inclined, <br />To take her time to survey, <br />Each room along the way. <br /> <br />He was a perfect gent, <br />Who smiled at her and sent, <br />A shiver, down her spine, <br />Which to her was quite divine, <br />Leaving her with a special kind, <br />Of fascination, in her mind. <br /> <br />He was a perfect gent, <br />Who hoped that she'd consent, <br />To become his future wife, <br />And to travel so, through life, <br />Hoping too, that this property, <br />Would hold the vital key. <br /> <br />He was a perfect gent, <br />Who in the time they spent <br />Together, in this prime location, <br />Made her feel such wild elation, <br />That, standing entranced by his side, <br />She consented to become his bride. <br /> <br />© Ernestine Northover<br /><br />Ernestine Northover<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-perfect-gent/
