I've had kings and god's and poets in my bed,
Felt them reluctant and raw, dazed and ****** and delighting.
Darling Peter brings me breakfast every morning after,
Always get my coffee wrong. He's got his smile
That seem more of an apology than anything else.
Hamlet paces endlessly, ten long-legged strides
From one side of the room to the other. I've got through
Three cups of the right kind of coffee before
While he's just crossing the sitting room again and again,
'to be's fluttering through my hair
Richard makes love like he's never done it before,
Like every little noise is a sign for concern. I think
It truly panics him to be faced with the responsibility.
Coriolanus ***** like a wild animal,
Fidgety and agitating. He *****
Like he's trying to win.
I wait for the real him and I say, won't you be a dragon this time.
Be a monster. Be whatever it is I am afraid of
When I put my feet up under the covers to keep them safe.
He laughs and tucks his face into my neck,
Squeezes his ankle around my toes.
No, he tells me firmly. Monsters tempt you enough
Without giving one my face to wear
This poem is not my own work all right is reserved and belongs to the original poet/author Elisabeth hewer I am only sharing because of how alluring and elegant it is.