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Terry Collett
Poems
Mar 2013
MIRIAM'S THAT KIND OF LOVE.
O yes
this is love
this is what Miriam knows
as love
not the maybe
kind of love
or what her mother
would have called
courting love
but the real thing
the thing that hits you
in the guts
that makes you not want
to eat or drink
but want to dream
yourself silly
over the kind of
love feeling
that drives you mad
with the thinking
of the thing
and yes
as the ordinary people
walk by
she feels sorry for them
not knowing
this love she feels
not understanding
that there's more to life
than the next meal
or pay rise
or promotion
if that was anything at all
at least not now
she feels like shouting
to the world not now
and o if only
he were here
if only he could see her now
sitting in her blue
short skirt
and pink jumper
and those underwear
he bought her
with the soft feel
on that stall
he said sit on
and o
she could squeeze herself
could hug her body
in a frenzy of excitement
and o to be in his arms
and feel his warmth
and to feel his cheek
on hers
and his hand
holding her hand
and giving it
that little tug
of here we go Honey
letβs show the world
where it can get off
because this is love
she says
this is the big one
and she can sense
her body glow
and her pulse rocket
through her *******
and arms and feet
and thighs
and o a thousand
other places
the world will never see
or know about
and yes this is it
this is the kind of
wake me
in the morning at 2 am
and kiss me
and rock me
and this is love
her mother never knew
not in all her
big American life
not in New York
or Chicago or no place
her mother knew
this kind of love pinch
this sort of electric buzz
of a feel
especially when he holds her
and blows
those small breaths
into her ears
and sometimes
between her thighs
o my God what to do?
where to go?
o this is the big one
this the time
to live life
to the full love
to stand on the ledge
of a tall building
and scream out
kind of love feel
and if he will show
right now in this room
and come in and say
love you Honey
love the woman you are
and she wants him
and wants his feel
his lips
his everything
is that him?
was that
the door bell ring?
no just the mailman
with a letter from him
saying in his neat pen
saying he canβt make tonight Honey
but maybe when.
Written by
Terry Collett
Sussex, England
(Sussex, England)
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