A beauty stood on a balcony high,
Sneezed and lost her blue glass eye.
A young man walking down The Strand
Caught the flashing eye-ball one hand.
Invited up to receive her thanks
He drooled on her features, figure, flanks.
While dining on champagne and chicken
These strangers felt their heart beats quicken,
Gazed into each others eyes, imperfections indiscernible,
Including the eye-ball that proved to be returnable.
Over croissants and coffee in the morning
The young man felt suspicion dawning,
Said, “Would you do this for just any passer-by?”
“Oh no!” she said, “He’d have to catch my eye”.
Copyright: Barney Egan