” . . . a Song for His Reply”
Remember my first words to you, “Intimacy is not disrobing
a woman’s body but clothing her naked fears”?
Well, might I add an addendum–to reflect
my emotional growth through the years?
There’s absolutely nothing to fear in my company
but the notion of fear alone,
I’ll stand by the door, keys in hand
If you prefer I leave, fine, but let me atone
I neglected to call midweek, I concede
An absent voice does not an absent heart make,
So appreciative was I for the birthday wish
You care . . . there’s an autumn romance at stake
Did you think of me, if only fleetingly . . .
Did I inhabit your mind after my reply?
Did you forget I’m the most observant scribe
Was I the content of your high?
I haven’t put palms on you, haven’t breathed on you
My fingers, my fragrance, to you are foreign
But autumn has come upon us with no apology
To my gentlemanly principles I’m sworn
I’m willing to venture to the studio
and simply watch how you cultivate the mic,
From visual note to mental rote I’ll imagine
What your voice to my verse might be like . . .
Sing to me a sensual bar, if only from afar
Tell me a story of a young woman come of age,
Convey that you long for me . . . in so many words
I’m your sole audience and you own my stage
The theatre, the ornate showroom, is ours
Sing, woman, interpret what dwells in your soul,
I’m not here for a Sade or Beyoncé remake
Not even my beloved Natalie Cole,
I simply want the original songstress within
An ingénue who’s full in her bloom,
As I place my tweedcoat across your shoulders
Only a lone thought will I assume
That you care for me and this autumn would agree
I’ve touched you in some meaningful way,
You’re deserving of this serendipity
I think of you on this Pamper-Her-Friday
© 2013 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®