An old man glances through a window
to one in the building below.
Through slats awry in seduction's haste,
candlelight strobes
on sweat-glistened bodies.
He watches, transfixed,
at the images through the blinds,
his eyes too frozen to obey.
(Turn your head! Go to bed!)
Two bodies loving, unaware
of the innocent intrusion.
He watches, aroused,
passion rising in two rooms now.
A goddess bent over a sofa,
Adonis behind
in the flickering light.
A conqueror, a conquest,
and memories of his own youth
rekindle and burn
and the old man cries.
Bittersweet images
through the blinds
and he cries.
CJ, I do like the way you give room for the reader to determine their own level of sensual feelings. Softly teasing as always. Rusty
Just the perfect temperature, C J...just right...I see you did not 'procrastinate' too long...thank you for sharing...very well done... Lare
How sad! Poor old guy all worked up and he didn't even get any action! lol Well done. I like! S
Very nice work on an old subject, typical c.j heck poem no stone left unturned a true poets account of an event warm regards AJS
Sensitively handled, you left all players with the dignity of their humanity
Nice one, CJ. It has prompted a response from this old man - in print, that is!
A beautifully written and atmospheric poem. Excellent indeed. Chrissie
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very powerful and vivid C.J. Nice work