The Dallying Lodger
Were it fair to provide more time,
to look for the perfect room, I might.
You await the kind of space with a:
French sofa and bed, to sit and nap; a
Pine desk, to write and eat;
Central heating, to keep afloat the cold, and
Flat mates’ voices to mute at once – the plan.
A list of wants – funds endeavour to
Stretch, but obvious can’t;
“More time” – attempts to plead
“Certainly that –I won’t agree – I shan’t!” .
The gloves and hat, at the door
Slipped on your hands and head
As if to say there was no more;
The solemn visage unfolded
Thoughts observed I feel
Instead, told, about your eek.
Your anticipated step
Required instant haste, but
Wishing to refrain .
Dally you did, just at the door.
Meaning to steer back the pace –
“Adieu”, I said to you.
Please, make rapidly your gate”,
My coup is Entirely pinned on that fate!.