Marcus sits and asks
for wine to be poured.
His man pours and hands
him the wine and waits nearby.
Annona looks at her husband,
his eyes, his hard stare,
his hands holding the wine.
Where's your Amy? he says
gazing at his wife.
Busy as usual, Annona says, why?
He dismisses his man who walks
off and out of sight; I’ve heard
that she shares your bed, Marcus says.
Annona tries hard not to blush
or show concern, who says?
Brutus replies, it has been brought
to me on my return from my
campaign on Ceasar's cause.
She looks past him, the seascape
beyond the wall, gulls in flight.
She keeps my reputation sure
until your return, she says, some
may rumour that other men may
share my bed, and that may cause
jealousy in your manly head.
How so? he says with furrowed brow.
If she weren't there, who
knows what rumours may
take root of other men being
there while you're away, but
while Amy's there none may
say, plus she keeps me warm
while your hot body's far away
in battle's swarm.
He smiles and sips his wine.
She breathes in deep and keeps
it to herself just how much her
Amy keeps her warm and hot,
and how they make love
while he's away.
How wise, he says, that is good
to know, but is she clean, I'd hate to
catch a pox where she may lay?
As clean as air around our heads
and lambs fresh born, Annona says
recalling Amy's lips upon her brow,
her hand upon her ****** bush.
Then good keep her near while I'm
at war, better to keep me happy
and sure no other man may share your bed.
No thought of such had ever entered
her head, just Amy and she with their
rough and tumble as a storm breed sea.
A ROMAN AND HIS WIFE AND A RUMOUR IN 47 BC