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Pauline
 

Ah Pauline, an old-fashioned name

Perhaps, but it suited her and I loved it.

We met in a shop doorway during a

Thunderstorm when head down

I rushed in only to find my temporary

Refuge already occupied. 'Hello' I said

'What are you doing here?' 'Waiting for

You,' came the whispered reply, 'Ooh,

And I so very, very, much for you...'

 

Our eyes met, our fingers touched, and

Willing arms pulled one into the other. Her

Body pressed close into mine I could feel

Every inch of her warmth leaning into me,

Pushing against me, speaking the fluent

Language of lonely people longing for

Contact, longing for love, ever hoping

To find it even in the most unexpected

Places.

 

Her sunshine burst into my heart, her

Light dazzled my closed eyes, storm,

What storm? The only storm we were

Aware of was the 'I wanna get close to

You storm,' about which something

Needed to be done and fast.

 

Not in the street you might think, well,

There are ways of doing everything in

Broad daylight that nobody sees, and

On stormy days one might expect to

See couples huddled together for

Shelter.

 

The wings of heaven fluttered that day,

As moist fingers tempted them into flight,

Careering skyward in a frenzy of molten

Passion too hot to handle, too hot to stop,

Come, my love, let me to you.

 

Oh, Pauline, you will be my undoing, but

In that undoing I will at least have lived

And loved a beautiful woman who loved

Me, albeit for a couple of heaven-sent

hours one afternoon... and now the storm

Has passed, and we will both go home to

Sadder less fulfilled lives of little joy or

Purpose, holding fast, because we must,

To a promise and a parroted act of fidelity

Witnessed years ago by family and friends.

 

© Joseph G Dawson