Afternoon, at home, by myself by Heide McAlister-Bates
Imagine, if you will
the slow ascent up a flight of stairs,
wearied steps toward a mundane task.
Then, as you reach the pinnacle,
your eyes behold the sight
of a madly unmade bed,
and a room redolent with
the scent of this mornings
Passion
and the ghost-whispers of our
Ecstasy.
Would you smile?
12/18/2004 Author's Note: I love Saturdays.
Posted on 12/18/2004 Copyright © 2024 Heide McAlister-Bates
Member Comments on this Poem |
Posted by Morgan D Hafele on 01/02/05 at 03:22 PM i do believe i would. awesome poem. |
Posted by Rommel Cruz on 01/06/05 at 11:13 AM i definitely will |
Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 04/30/05 at 12:17 PM yes, most indubidably would I smile, knowing that something remarkably eventful had taken place in that bed. don't make it up now, Heide, some things are better left open as a wound to persist in the memory and not be in a rush to become a scab. |
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