The scene is set.
Woman, hear her roar.
Sitting quietly upon my bed.
The only trick, or maybe treat,
to this occasion is her clothing.
She is wearing, nothing.

Now, augur I am not, but even I
can gather of what great many possibilities
this future event will include.

First, I would set the mood.
Candles, maybe some dim lighting.
A glass of wine: red, white...champagne perhaps.

Second, I would make sure to stay clothed.
This is about her.
Of all the things I could do,
I would probably be a gentleman in this poem,

but in life I would devour her being,
make her fall in love with my identity.
Take a swim in my mind, gasping for air
only seconds later, the ocean is deep, oh yes.
Like jumping into frigid waters, one toe at a time.

03/31/2006

Author's Note: *Archive

Posted on 05/19/2007
Copyright © 2025 Jeffrey Parren