The TV was a bore. Then, a knock at the door. A lovely sound, that made Sam's heart pound. Dinner for two, came in from the hall. Sam looked around, and that was all.
The trolley wheeled in, food fresh from a tin. He paid the lad, with cash from his dad. And then he was sad, on the edge of the bed. Waiting for Sally. And a kiss as finale.
"Be a gentleman," his father always said, "That's how you'll find the one you will wed."
Sam smiled in the mirror, hoping the moment grew nearer. And when she tapped on the door, in decadent decor, he simpered more. And then glum panic struck, and he relied on dumb luck. From a vase he did pluck, a plastic rose worth merely buck.
And queerly he looked, with it clenched in his jaw. For as the door was ajar, she let out from afar, a giggle and guffaw.
"Is that for me?" she asked, enamored with glee.