Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
terry-collettPoems
Lovely Tours Miriam says to me maybe we can look round you and me sure I say and so when the coach stops we get out and wander keeping close to others from our coach the hippie couple there out in front he bearded with a band round his head and his girl with long hair hanging loose both smoking Miriam takes my hand her own hand small and warm pulse going her red hair all tight curls her bright eyes over me isn't it exciting? I don't do exciting I just look and take in and enjoy I tell her we walk on through the streets look in shops look at stuff she holds things in her hands handles them values them like last night in the coach in Paris lying down in our seats us kissing her fingers exploring my hot crotch my fingers spidering up her thigh as music on the coach radio eases out Beethoven’s piano piece concerto number 5 or such like and she's there holding me my fingers spidering to her nest lights dim low music flows down the rows of coach seats some sleeping some talking some of us making out best we can in dim light in Paris over night.
0
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 4:22 AM UTC
LOVELY TOURS.
Lovely Tours Miriam says to me maybe we can look round you and me sure I say and so when the coach stops we get out and wander keeping close to others from our coach the hippie couple there out in front he bearded with a band round his head and his girl with long hair hanging loose both smoking Miriam takes my hand her own hand small and warm pulse going her red hair all tight curls her bright eyes over me isn't it exciting? I don't do exciting I just look and take in and enjoy I tell her we walk on through the streets look in shops look at stuff she holds things in her hands handles them values them like last night in the coach in Paris lying down in our seats us kissing her fingers exploring my hot crotch my fingers spidering up her thigh as music on the coach radio eases out Beethoven’s piano piece concerto number 5 or such like and she's there holding me my fingers spidering to her nest lights dim low music flows down the rows of coach seats some sleeping some talking some of us making out best we can in dim light in Paris over night.
A BOY AND GIRL IN TOURS IN FRANCE IN 1970
terry-collett
Written by
terry-collett
English
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 4:22 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem