by Golden ©
Written on a plane from Dublin to London
It was the
Nose of the woman next to me which brought you to
Mind.
I did not
need to find you
Attractive - it was the
Idea of you which stirred a
Schoolboy.
As you
Undressed for me, your breasts hung, your soft
Childborn belly so unlike any
Glimpsed in games of
I'll show you mine if you'll show me yours.
Unprepared
for that
First touch of
Woman's
Caress, I was grateful for your
Gentleness.
Your unhurried
Pleasure focused my first-time fumblings, and I
Followed to where I had never been.
When I joined
you, to my
Surprise you were
Beautiful.
. . . . .
Later, you
threw me my
Clothes and took me out in your
TR4,
driving recklessly through the night.
And your
hair, I remember,
Streamed in the wind, like a Hollywood
Cliché.