That Tap.
As night blusters towards mid the loose
silvery air of sky's rink
blackens and deepens its silent echoes
of past excitement until
that tap on my windowpane to drive
lonely back whence it came
now whispers of clandestine rapture.
I open as Yes starts the climb to press
again thy skin against mine.
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Author:
Fay Slimm. (
Offline) - Published: July 11th, 2021 02:32
- Comment from author about the poem: Thought it about time to write a bit of weekend whimsy......... hope you enjoy.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 44
- User favorite of this poem: Accidental Poet.
Offline)
Comments6
Good morning and happy Sunday, thank you for a pleasant read!
Oh for those clandestine secret meetings when one has to be pretty nifty at chucking small cippings at the bedroom window.... the rest is 2nd nature.
Love the way you tell the story.
That tapping on the window of love. ; )
Just wot the doctor ordered dear Fay .. tickled my fancy anyway 🙂
Beautiful, Fay.
You have stirred an old man's heart remembering the late-night booty call.
Beautiful, whimsical words Fay, I am tapping away (on my keyboard of course).😍
Andy
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