Love For Lunch
By Ellen Kunasek (High~Food~Rejection)
A high school cafeteria – an un-romantic place.
No sexy music playing, no flowers in a vase.
No candles softly burning, no fire in the grate.
Just trays and noise and students, and food thrown on a plate.
And yet, when she walks in the room, he only hears his heart.
He wonders how it still can beat, when pierced by Cupid’s dart.
He’s never said “Hello” to her, just worshipped from afar.
He’s just a tiny clod of earth, and she’s a distant star.
He sees her every day in math – a class he used to dread.
It’s now become his favorite, though equations hurt his head.
He sits two rows behind her and admires her blonde hair.
He’s sure she’s never noticed him, and wouldn’t know, or care.
But now the dance is coming up – the big one, don’t you know.
And everyone who’s anyone is making plans to go.
He’s made his mind up firmly, to ask her for a date.
And it has to be today at noon – tomorrow’s much too late.
He had never been so careful, in choosing what to wear,
He never took such trouble in the styling of his hair.
But finally he gave a sigh – he’d done all he could do.
Picked up his books and left the house, at 7:32.
Lunch bell would ring at 12:05 – he prayed for time to fly.
And at the same time, dreaded seeing the hours going by.
But finally the hour came – he headed down the hall.
To acceptance or rejection? He couldn’t breathe at all.
And there she is, just going in. He softly said her name.
She stopped, and turned, and smiled at him – he tried to do the same.
He stammered out some words, he guessed – he couldn’t quite recall,
When later on, he thought about their meeting in the hall.
He didn’t know what he had said, he hoped he’d sounded cool,
And not like what he felt he was – the biggest dork in school.
But one thing was for certain; he didn’t have to guess -
He asked her to the formal dance, and she had replied “Yes!”
By Ellen Kunasek (High~Food~Rejection)
A high school cafeteria – an un-romantic place.
No sexy music playing, no flowers in a vase.
No candles softly burning, no fire in the grate.
Just trays and noise and students, and food thrown on a plate.
And yet, when she walks in the room, he only hears his heart.
He wonders how it still can beat, when pierced by Cupid’s dart.
He’s never said “Hello” to her, just worshipped from afar.
He’s just a tiny clod of earth, and she’s a distant star.
He sees her every day in math – a class he used to dread.
It’s now become his favorite, though equations hurt his head.
He sits two rows behind her and admires her blonde hair.
He’s sure she’s never noticed him, and wouldn’t know, or care.
But now the dance is coming up – the big one, don’t you know.
And everyone who’s anyone is making plans to go.
He’s made his mind up firmly, to ask her for a date.
And it has to be today at noon – tomorrow’s much too late.
He had never been so careful, in choosing what to wear,
He never took such trouble in the styling of his hair.
But finally he gave a sigh – he’d done all he could do.
Picked up his books and left the house, at 7:32.
Lunch bell would ring at 12:05 – he prayed for time to fly.
And at the same time, dreaded seeing the hours going by.
But finally the hour came – he headed down the hall.
To acceptance or rejection? He couldn’t breathe at all.
And there she is, just going in. He softly said her name.
She stopped, and turned, and smiled at him – he tried to do the same.
He stammered out some words, he guessed – he couldn’t quite recall,
When later on, he thought about their meeting in the hall.
He didn’t know what he had said, he hoped he’d sounded cool,
And not like what he felt he was – the biggest dork in school.
But one thing was for certain; he didn’t have to guess -
He asked her to the formal dance, and she had replied “Yes!”