Saturday, 25 April 2015
The clock ticked on
Had I just woken from a dream?
For all was not what it seemed
Inky dark was in mottled shades
Dawn peeped through Venetian blades
Diaphanous nightwear stirred by my side
But knew in marriage I was not tied
Sweet pursed lips on my cheek were placed
And loving arms me now embraced
Soon the morn's iridescent day
Would place sunbeams on where we lay
Dissonant thoughts in my mind did strain
Trying to recall from whence she came
The girl by my side has such soft skin
She murmured as I tucked back in
As I stroked her it was like rich velour
Fool was I if ever sought for more
So then I kissed one sweet fingertip
And laid back down on her pillowslip
Content she moaned and snuggled up
Once more we drank from the loving cup
The weather changed, the clock ticked on
Her clipped voice said she must be gone
It was the last I saw of her that day
As lacy frills flounced off and away
Image found at www.countryantiquefurniture.co.uk
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I wonder, did you ever see her again? A delightfully sensuous poem.
ReplyDeleteKeith's Ramblings
Liked the rhyme. Also your entanglement with the diaphanous night attire...hilarious !
ReplyDeleteA sexy sunday morning story. I hope she came back!
ReplyDeletePerhaps a happy fleeting moment is worth more than 24 long hours..
ReplyDeleteWe can never really know what happens next. I like the subtle humor you blended into this piece,
ReplyDeleteElizabeth
That darned clock, aye? Reminds me of Cinderella with a fella...
ReplyDeleteBut not leaving any glass slippers.
Thanks for stopping by Mrs. Mary Mack.
Ah ... a lovely mystery ... intriguing!
ReplyDeleteI liked the technique you used here: 'So then I kissed one sweet fingertip' - what a sweet manners... :)
ReplyDelete