She wakes, with hot emotion streaming
warm and wet, across one rosy cheek.
Slowly reason rises, tears subside,
for many times does bitter obligation
steal joy away to pour its stream of sand
carelessly through those indifferent hands.
Her sunrise aches to draw one curtain closed,
to veil the room in softened honey light,
to listen for the peals of morning laughter.
His jacket slung aside in playful haste,
entwined bodies dancing, kindling kisses,
pleasure writhing, wreathed in sweet delight.
She breathes, her hot emotion waning,
anger draining, quiet acceptance rising.
So many days,
so many very ordinary days
to wait and live and work and sleep,
and give way to someone else,
to wake at last and find
a gift unwrapped.
Their stolen, perfect day.
Maggie Munro's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Seeing Red by Maggie Munro )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(c. 600 BCE)
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