Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Mother had lectured you on the state of your room as soon as you got in from school; you stood there nodding and clutching your satchel, wishing she’d finish so you could go to your room and be away from her yak. Friday and the end of school for a few days; you hoped to cycle out to Benny’s parents’ cottage in the morning and maybe get him in the hay barn on the farm or some such place. Make sure you tidy that room up, Mother said. You said you would and climbed the stairs to your bedroom, which looked out on the cherry trees and gooseberry bushes. Once in your room you looked around: your bed had been made and most items on the floor had been put away, except for the record player and LPs. The window was open and fresh air entering and chilling the room. You closed the window and stared out. The old girl next door was throwing bread to the birds on her lawn. A tabby cat sat behind the gooseberry bushes, waiting. You turned and slipping of your shoes, you lay on your bed. You had seen Benny briefly at school; he was walking along the corridor to another lesson, and he smiled and you smiled back. You wanted to grab him and kiss him, but a teacher was passing by and shooed you on. You turned on your bed and imagined he was there lying next to you. You closed your eyes, and touched your thigh, pretending it was him, not you, his hand touching you. You hugged yourself, placing a hand along your back, moving the fingers, imagining Benny’s hand doing it. But you weren’t good at pretending; you wanted the real thing. You looked forward to Saturday morning and what it might bring.
0
Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 2:59 AM UTC
Lizbeth One Friday 1961
Mother had lectured you on the state of your room as soon as you got in from school; you stood there nodding and clutching your satchel, wishing she’d finish so you could go to your room and be away from her yak. Friday and the end of school for a few days; you hoped to cycle out to Benny’s parents’ cottage in the morning and maybe get him in the hay barn on the farm or some such place. Make sure you tidy that room up, Mother said. You said you would and climbed the stairs to your bedroom, which looked out on the cherry trees and gooseberry bushes. Once in your room you looked around: your bed had been made and most items on the floor had been put away, except for the record player and LPs. The window was open and fresh air entering and chilling the room. You closed the window and stared out. The old girl next door was throwing bread to the birds on her lawn. A tabby cat sat behind the gooseberry bushes, waiting. You turned and slipping of your shoes, you lay on your bed. You had seen Benny briefly at school; he was walking along the corridor to another lesson, and he smiled and you smiled back. You wanted to grab him and kiss him, but a teacher was passing by and shooed you on. You turned on your bed and imagined he was there lying next to you. You closed your eyes, and touched your thigh, pretending it was him, not you, his hand touching you. You hugged yourself, placing a hand along your back, moving the fingers, imagining Benny’s hand doing it. But you weren’t good at pretending; you wanted the real thing. You looked forward to Saturday morning and what it might bring.
Lizbeth one Friday after school 1961
TerryCollett
Written by
Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 2:59 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem