Being sociable
My eyes glaze over, and my poor ears ring!
The raucous rabble that I must endure
Have forced me here a while;
A party where I only seek a cure,
A balm to loose the sticky threads that cling;
But I must stay and smile.
I wander, drink in hand, towards the food
Relaxed in gait, electric tense in mind
And grab a dainty snack
I think just of the peace I’ve left behind
And whether going home would yet seem rude,
So eager to get back.
There’s no one here I know. Well, one or two.
There’s him, of course; We’ve chatted once or twice
I can’t remember where.
I think he follows cricket; thinks it’s nice
Discussing who can throw the best, and who
Knocks balls into the air.
Oh, no! That woman’s coming up to me;
Our children played together sometime since
When they were all at school.
“How are you all?” She asks. It makes me wince
“We’re fine!” I chuckle, wishing I could see
How not to sound a fool.
She stays and chats. Her words just cloy my ears
Like tepid mud, no sparkle and no joy;
My answers, robot-dead,
Are shallow, like her questions; like a toy
I play the conversation game, with fears
I’ll never get to bed.
A shadow figure hovers at my back.
“Wrong call,” it whispers; “you should listen more.”
My Muse gives sound advice.
The woman’s asking if my son-in-law
Has ever – and we’re on an easier track.
It’s actually rather nice.
And when he comes up to us, later on,
We’re deep in chat. I pause to introduce;
I hope he’s not a bore.
I’m planning straight away a quick excuse
To slide away from him and then be gone
Before my head gets sore.
My Muse is there again. “It’s not time yet.
Refill your glass and have another sip,
And listen to him too.”
Excuses die before they reach my lip.
Turns out he’s newly married to a vet.
How come I never knew?
I say “I bet she’s got some tales to tell.”
He calls her over; and indeed she did!
“There was this time, last year,
“A goat was having trouble with her kid…”
We chatted goats; the milking and the smell,
The feeding and the gear.
And by the time the clock struck half past one
We’d all arranged to go out for a meal.
How much a story mends!
And as I wandered home, I got to feel
Although the night was not that well begun
That we were maybe….friends?