Gentlemen Again

Asked to help monitor a silent auction at a swanky affair,
I dressed “to the nines” in my elegant little black dress,
and I even helped to move long tables with a smile joyfully,
my slim wrists encircled with pearls, Louboutin heels on my pretty little feet.

And even though I am only a dainty size six,
not even once did a dashing man dressed up in a tux,
blink an eye or notice it would be a gentleman’s chore,
to lend his stronger arms to a slender volunteer sweetly tackling such work.

When it was time for me to leave that grand affair and go home,
the arctic breeze was blowing down hard on the slick, icy road,
so I carefully took my first step to cross the street in slow motion
hoping that I’d reach the car without causing a commotion.

But before I had advanced another slippery step from the curb,
a stranger dashed to my side, out of nowhere, to show his concern,
and suggested that I please use the assistance of his steady arm,
to make sure that I reached the other side of the street without harm.

He was dressed in an all-weather jacket, boots and casual slacks,
just your plain average joe, who would never ever garner a second glance,
and he cheerily suggested that if we did slip and slide
that I’d have something big to land on, him, instead of my slim side.

So remember, when it is the meaning of a gentleman that you must define or describe,
that it is not about their fine clothes, but about their kind nature inside,
and that they don’t always come dressed in their best, or a tux,
but they will rush to your rescue before dashing away . . . sometimes in a truck.