Musings by The Poet Loriet
Canoodling
Canoodling
You amaze me.
I ask you,
"A penny for your thoughts?,"
playing the little conversation
game we like to play,
and you give a thorough
explanation of politics
in the Middle East as
your thighs caress mine.
You turn to ask my thoughts,
and I just smile, "Oh,
nothing really in particular,
hon, just relaxing
in your arms."
You smile back as you
launch into a detailed
explanation about
your most difficult client.
My lips rest lightly
on the sexy curve
of your stubble-riddled throat.
You discuss obscure laws,
estate-planning, sales economy,
the military and court proceedings.
Then, you ask me again,
"A penny for your thoughts?,"
as we lie chest to chest,
heartbeat to heartbeat,
breath matching breath...
All I can think about
is what I could do to
make you stop thinking,
wishing you'd kiss me.
My fingers rest just above
your waistband
as yours caress
my leg absentmindedly.
The nearness of you
erases my rational thoughts.
What am I thinking?!
Twisting my thumb ring nervously,
I blush and shake my head, "No."
I don't want to say or do
anything to spoil this moment
or scare you away.
You look at me strangely
as if you don't understand me.
If you only knew how
you frustrate me...
The feeling is mutual.
"That's okay, hon, I guess
you don't have to share."
Looking at the clock
and realizing you're late
for your scheduled meeting,
you jump out of bed,
tugging your socks on
and buckling your belt.
You turn to me and say,
"Thank you for letting me
take my pants off,"
not realizing how
absurd that sounds.
I giggle suggestively and wink,
"You're welcome! Anytime!"
With a questioning laugh,
you say, "That...
sounded kinda surreal.
You're NOT? going to
put that in a poem...
Are you?"
I just grinned as
I slipped back beneath
the toasty covers,
murmuring, "Well,
it does have...
possibilities."
Lori Beal
You amaze me.
I ask you,
"A penny for your thoughts?,"
playing the little conversation
game we like to play,
and you give a thorough
explanation of politics
in the Middle East as
your thighs caress mine.
You turn to ask my thoughts,
and I just smile, "Oh,
nothing really in particular,
hon, just relaxing
in your arms."
You smile back as you
launch into a detailed
explanation about
your most difficult client.
My lips rest lightly
on the sexy curve
of your stubble-riddled throat.
You discuss obscure laws,
estate-planning, sales economy,
the military and court proceedings.
Then, you ask me again,
"A penny for your thoughts?,"
as we lie chest to chest,
heartbeat to heartbeat,
breath matching breath...
All I can think about
is what I could do to
make you stop thinking,
wishing you'd kiss me.
My fingers rest just above
your waistband
as yours caress
my leg absentmindedly.
The nearness of you
erases my rational thoughts.
What am I thinking?!
Twisting my thumb ring nervously,
I blush and shake my head, "No."
I don't want to say or do
anything to spoil this moment
or scare you away.
You look at me strangely
as if you don't understand me.
If you only knew how
you frustrate me...
The feeling is mutual.
"That's okay, hon, I guess
you don't have to share."
Looking at the clock
and realizing you're late
for your scheduled meeting,
you jump out of bed,
tugging your socks on
and buckling your belt.
You turn to me and say,
"Thank you for letting me
take my pants off,"
not realizing how
absurd that sounds.
I giggle suggestively and wink,
"You're welcome! Anytime!"
With a questioning laugh,
you say, "That...
sounded kinda surreal.
You're NOT? going to
put that in a poem...
Are you?"
I just grinned as
I slipped back beneath
the toasty covers,
murmuring, "Well,
it does have...
possibilities."
Lori Beal
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Canoodling
Canoodling
