There are certain moonlit nights
when the garden calls.
I value my time there.
Not the roses.
Not the lilies.
Not all that other
fancy shit.
The tulips.
Especially in July,
when the humidity won't let up,
and the windows are open,
and the whole night
smells like sweat and heat.
Put on some Coltrane,
pour a little wine,
dim the lights.
Then ease my way
into the tulips.
There's something about
a woman on her hands and knees
in the garden
that makes a man
forget his manners.
You start slow.
You pay attention.
You listen to the landscape.
You don't rush it.
You give it time.
You give it your hands,
your mouth,
your patience.
And when the garden
finally opens,
there's a sweetness there
you can't explain
without ruining it.
No pretty posy.
No clever metaphor.
No gods pouring nectar
from the heavens.
Just two people
in the dark
trying to disappear
inside each other.
The world can wait.
There are some nights
I could stay
in the tulips forever.
-
Author:
Thomas W Case (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 13th, 2026 08:12
- Comment from author about the poem: All of my books are available on Amazon, and my latest, Searching for Nod, will be out in October: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Thomas-W.-Case/author/B0CL2RKDGX?ref=sr
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 41
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Kevin Hulme, Tristan Robert Lange, Kaz, Teddy.15, ms.divine
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Comments8
Well written piece, much enjoyed
Thanks
And I'm not going to interrupt. You, the night the heat the tulips and her... I'm away now, for both of you.
Thank you, my friend.
It is the cleverness of the language and images that make this a piece of art instead of a gritty sexual piece it is seductive and sensual as nature is. It has the natural drive of reproductive nature wrapped in all its raw beauty. Tulips yes two lips at either end..... of this poem. A favorite kiss either way
Thank you, my friend.
Always a pleasure
As always Thomas: A fine write. It sounds so Idyllic. And the line about Forgetting Manners: Very true. These Balmy Nights will soon end sadly. Here at least.
Thank you.
Your welcome.
In the night garden, given its almost meditative cadence, its pacing stays patient and attentive, listening to the landscape rather than rushing it. A vivid piece shaped with care. 🕊️👍🏻
Thanks
Thomas, I came expecting Tiny Tim and instead found myself witnessing some very attentive horticulture! This is playful, intimate, and deliciously improper. Loved it, my friend! 😂🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thank you.
Sometimes it's easier getting down, then getting up, these days.
So true. Thanks.
A stunning piece of poetry. 🌷
Thank you.
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