Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2013
Tuesday.


It was Tuesday late in the day when we met

It was raining so hard we were both soaking wet.

I talked to her like she was an old friend

And realised soon, I didn’t want this to end.

So I said,

Fancy a coffee?

Even though it was late.

She grinned and said,

Shall we call this a date?

And we talked as we walked

And it got really late

I said, let me walk you home, at least to your gate.

We got to her house and she said, coming for a drink?

Yes please I replied, I didn’t need to think.

The evening passed to morning

We laughed and we joked

And saw the new day dawning.

Then we kissed and my heart missed a beat

Then we kissed again a double measure,neat.

Her lips tasted of the morning mist and once again we tenderly kissed

Then undressed as the suns rays hit the counterpane

And I knew I’d never be the same.

I kissed her eyes her neck her ears

It nearly brought this grown man to tears.

She whispered don’t rush just take your time

And you and me will make each other mine.

If I ever thought that I wanted to die

I now know for sure that this was a lie.

She made me want to live,She made me want to give

And after when we felt just so her cat jumped up and bit my toe.

But we laughed and began to touch and I wanted her so much.

Then later over a cup of tea she said,

Does that mean you really like me?

Yes, I said, I really love your feet and my heart skipped another beat

I love the way you sway I love the things you say

Your nakedness is branded on my brain

My heart was racing like a train.

She smiled and said, I like you too

I said, I want to make love with you.

And though I’ve not had to many lovers

She took me under her bedcovers

And heavens did she make me moan and yell

By doing,

Well,
A gentleman does not tell.

And then the bell went clang the telephone rang

I opened my eyes and to my surprise

I was alone in my room it might as well be a tomb

Just another ******* though for a while it did seem

So so real So so good.

But then I suppose it would.
John Edward Smallshaw
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw  68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems