Once upon a Time in a Vest

Just sixteen: ready for love-in-a- minute
- a rapid flowering bloom
in a weedy location.

And I preened: funny to look at? Sure it was,
as every eye in the room
would testify, later.

But - perhaps - she was making a point,
felt sorry for the gauche-st
geek at the party.

We left, me happy on the golden arm
of the most beautiful and best
and her just along for the ride.

She laughed - then smiled, sardonic,
when she saw I wore a vest
- after I'd 'phoned my mum.