We talked about you tonight,
Sat around a crowded table and sorted you out
Put together our few years of experience
And fewer of wisdom with our very small sense
And devised a sure course of action for you
Then wiped the slate and assured each other
That no true rule existed. That we mustn’t box you in
Or make your plans for you, that every circumstance
Is quite different, really, so there’s just
No way of knowing. And we said
Just what our mothers said, that we would
When it happened. Wisely we nodded,
Concurring that no two people are just alike
And no two courtships should be, either.
We chafed under our wisdom, though, and we wanted
Nothing more than for you to be the man
At the next table with the very straight nose
And very blue eyes. But that wasn’t you.
Probably that was a good thing, since we spent
The next hour talking about you some more.