Old, yet never world weary
Built when a time passed slow
When people could not be asked to rush
Romance meant holding hands
Walking out for months
Getting to know each other
Where a look from across the room
Would have you spellbound
Unspoken words, understood by the heart
So much old-fashioned charm, lost to time
I would wish it back, where a gentleman
holds the door open for you to pass
What charm is there, in todays panicked, rushed world?
I want to tell you that charm remains.
I had a young boy, of about twelve
Hold the door to the chemist open for me
I was bowled over by his charm
I smiled all the way home
How had he learned to be so polite
So charming…
© anita dawes 2020