The Skirt

The symposium generated a heated debate.
The sabres were put down for dinner at eight.
Cocktails were served and tongues did wag
As the "skirt" walked in my heart raised a flag.
The penguins all shuffled to get near the dish.
I preferred the  h'ordeurves and nibbled on fish.
She carried a purse sequined and small.
One by one the penguins did fall.
Casually as if whisking her hair, I contact was made, or was it a stare?
I tried not to notice, "cool" is my game.
The h'ordeurve missed my mouth, when my heart went aflame.
Fated from the start, much like the rest.
I shuffled towards the dish and gave it my best.