Oh Woman

Mmm, he smells so good
The fresh, line-dried scent of his clothes
And that indefinable certain something That is him, and him alone,
Mingle with the tangy-sweet scent of his cologne.
You want to smoothe your hand along The soft, slick cotton of his shirt sleeve,
Hold on to his arm, close your eyes and
Make believe.
His eyes twinkle, the creases at the Corners speak of years of humour
And you think to yourself how he looks, Somehow, younger
Than you know he is.
And this, this, you shut your eyes at night and dream
Longing for more.

He is so strong. You admire the subtle swell
Of muscle
And even if you didn’t know he ran, you would be able to tell
By the long, lean line of leg and the tightness of the curve you watch
As he walks away.
And he always walks away.
Why doesn’t he stay?

He has children and you know he’s good with them
He’s told you all about the time he spends,
The bedtime stories that never end.
How he plays with them in the park,
Takes them out on walks after dark
Buys them sweets,
Takes them on weekend treats.
What a man, what a wonderful father.
Your ovaries ache with an undeniable lust
For him as a partner.

He’s educated, he travels. At work he’s climbing the ladder
With rapidity. Everybody sings his praises.
They all agree: he’s amazing.
How did you get so lucky, such a man, Such a prize.
You smile and hug your secret to yourself
Soon, very soon, there will be no more lies.
Oh woman, do you not realise?

He smells so good because she washes out his clothes with love,
And hangs them on the line to dry.
Never thinking that the crisp, ironed cotton she labours over
Is a smell that drives you wild.
Every birthday she buys a new bottle of that cologne
She first bought him years ago.
Spending money of her own,
That she never spends on herself.

Every evening she does the dinner, washing up and tidying
Clearing the way for him to run,
Wondering sometimes what he’s running from...
Or to.
Smiling tightly when he winds the children up with silly games and fun
Just before they’re due to sleep
Reading long past when they’re actually tired
Then leaves her to settle them when they’re wired
And far too excited.
If they wake she gets up with them in the night.
Every year he ages, she ages three
And watches the life she leads drain her of any former beauty
And self esteem.
She’s the constant, the pole star
Which everybody needs and noone sees.

Oh other woman
You're in love with an ephemera:
A shimmering illusion of something that never were.
He is her creature and she is his.
After all he loved her first and he will stay with her
For his better
And her worse.