Friday Poetry

I decided to wheel out one of my all-time faves from a past life...a poem of love unrequited...by way of contrast, I've never known the subject of the last line to let me down...this may not translate to the legion of US readers, but references to a popular series of commercials featuring a superior NZ ale may obscure the meaning more than my inept penmanship...

The Perfect 10

I've heard it said, "She's a hard road finding the perfect woman mate."
But she seemed perfect.
Perhaps she was too perfect?
Which is not perfect at all.
Whatever.
My cheap car alarm emotions could not protect me from her fatal flaw:
An imperfect appreciation of my appreciation.
She did drink Speights but.