Friday, 5 April 2019

Gauze






My love, we all grow old, but
I see you through the
gauze of memory, always that
beautiful girl I
dared to kiss.

But nowadays
would I have dared?

 
(Image used by kind permission of Holden-and-Camille.com to whom I am most grateful and you should go visit. The poem is my imagination and is not a reflection of their lifestyle)

Saturday, 16 March 2019

On Reflection





On reflection, I know you
knew I watched you dress,
imagining the soft
hush of stocking up leg, you
fussing unnecessarily to allow your
breasts to sway that
little bit longer before the
dress like a white waterfall, the
sudden height of heels, a
flick of your hair, the
distant slam of a door.

On reflection, I noted the
lack of other underwear,
wondered who you might meet,
whether you might be
smiling when, tomorrow, you
draw your curtains.



(Image used by kind permission of Holden-and-Camille.com to whom I am most grateful and you should go visit. The poem is my imagination and is not a reflection of their lifestyle)