In setting out to choose a gift

Not grand nor still not cheap.

With answers to the question, "What?"

I was not near replete.

I thought about a trinket,

But then perhaps some pong.

Then, should I rouse a cheering hoard

Or mass a singing throng?

The fact that I knew all too well,

You liked the best in life.

Meant I couldn't bring home,

Some ill considered trifle.

I wondered whether gifts came,

From tokens with much care.

But in the end I quite resolved,

There was no answer there.

Ah now, we have a problem,

(In fact that we is ME).

For with this poem your bound to like,

Is not much you can see.

In fact the answer really,

Is plain for all to grasp.

I'll take you out this weekend,

And you can choose one that will last.

© Martin Whitthread