Young Love

This is a poem I wrote, when I was 17. I had never been on a date, and had just met this guy through his cousin, who attended my school. He was in the service, and she had asked me to write to him,so I did. When he got out of the service,which he was in the process of doing, at that time, he came by my house. He was a very handsome fellow,clean shaven,clean hair cut,a really neat and clean fellow overall. I guess a stretch in the service will do that for anyone. Lots of boys I knew at that time,did not go through the trouble to be so polished and clean.Nevertheless, I fell in love immediately. Looking back now, I think I was in love with "Having someone of my own, and in love with Love itself",if that makes sense.I tell you this because the marriage only lasted twelve years.But the poem is still fresh in my mind, and this is it.I may have left out a word or two, but it's been so long, I doubt I could ever find a copy of it. If I remember any other lines, I will insert them later. I chose to recite this for a grade in my Public Speaking class in High School, instead of the Preamble or the Gettysburg Address. We had a choice. I got an A on the poem and my presentation.


Girls, did you ever meet a boy
That you liked real well,
And you think about him all the time?
So you sit right down,
With a pencil in your hand
And you write 'till you make it rhyme?

Well, this I've done, as you can see,
And if it sounds corny,
Blame only me.
I've called it "Ronnie"
'Cause that's his name
And when I'm happy,
Then he's to blame.


RONNIE

On the tenth of December
I'll never forget
A night to remember
A boy I met.

He's six feet tall,
With eyes of blue.
When he smiles,they sparkle
Like drops of dew.

His hair is blonde
In a flat top style
I'll tell you more
But it'll take awhile

He drives a car
that really goes.
It's long and white,
A 59 Olds

He came to my house
On a Saturday night
I'll tell you now
I was filled with fright

I invited him in
And we got acquainted
He asked me out
And I nearly fainted.

I thought to myself
My Dad will say
"Oh, not tonight.
Maybe some other day."

But when he said
He didn't care,
I thought to myself
"Dad can be fair."

So we hopped in his car
At just about seven
And didn't return
Until nearly eleven.

We went to his home
Where I met his folks
And ,Oh, his Dad
He was full of jokes.

He has 3 sisters
And a brother,too.
He lives in a house
All big and new.

Well, Butterflies are pretty
And fun to touch
But when they get in your stomach,
Well,that's too much.

written by Sue Nugent 1965