I can still make mature women blush
Knowing the proper placement of words
Using my tongue to enunciate firmly
The rhythm of recitement, she slowly purred
The fertile experience of rapturous joy
Pause a moment, so she won’t catch her death
Letting her pulse settle to reasonable levels
Returning to the living, joy in each & every breath
The bold blonde with big, bouncy curls
Much-maligned missionary souls
Falling in love was always my fatal flaw
Especially once I’ve relinquished control
Radiating a positive vibe henceforth
A smile & skip in the most mundane chores
Yet perceptions of domestic divinity
Always can accomplish just a little more
Backlogged Cinderella fantasies
Dancing amid a swirl with a feather duster
Cautiously watching; epically vulnerable
Wondering if my heart might trust her
It’s no fairytale ending, but a good life
A drink & a fire, quietly getting better
She’s content without our consent
Cracking a book, curling up into her sweater
She wore a smart suit
Setting her apart from the rest
She was a fine specimen
Altered from her years out West
The tailor created perfection
It loved her feminine curve
The details you won’t miss
Feeling beauty in your structured nerves
Those blonde curls, nice & tight
Noticing underthings peeking through
Regaining my composure in time
Don’t want my excitement to be misconstrued
Image by Daria Nepriakhina from Pixabay
Captain Q 