The clairvoyant hippo
Sat watching Tom Sawyer
Sprawled out buck naked
Such a naughty little voyeur
The Clairvoyant Hippo
voyeur
Touched By The Whim Of God
Touched by the whim of God
Revolutions in the unlikeliest of places
Tasting the perfect tilt to her hips
My benign lunacy comes in traces
Diluted measurements by midmorning
With inconvenient virtues & unholy glee
Bringing small obsessions in my mind
When the local widows invite me for tea
Entering only after a courteous introduction
No need to intrude on our nebulous beliefs
A shared sacrilege when I watch her curtsey
Dropping to our knees; praying for some relief
Maybe The Morning
Maybe the morning
Doesn’t; it just doesn’t have to be
You rise a little softer on that day
Emerging from a cocoon for me to see
Winter blankets fall away like nebulae
Taller than is expected from a Belle
Not so confident at first light
The arching sun; the pillory of hell
Stretching in my threadbare shirt
A shake of your hips
When first the brew hits your lips
But I want to watch
As you take another vainglorious sip
Excuse Me, Miss
Excuse me, Miss
I need help between the books
You look down your glasses at me
Don’t worry about their errant looks
You’re dressed mighty nice
I think it’s by the back shelves
It seems I’ve gotten us lost
Oh my, I think we’re by ourselves
I pull you in close
A hand sneaks under your skirt to play
You moan aloud; onlookers’ smile
Apparently we’re still on display
Image by Eli Digital Creative from Pixabay
Captain Q 