Michael. Meddings

Rookie (07.04.1941 / Stourbridge Worcestershire)

Just A Voyeuristic Observation - Poem by Michael. Meddings

This is just a voyeuristic observation,
But the dress you wore last night was rather fine,
It just fitted where it might do,
Well really where it should do,
But the effect on the party so sublime.

I really shouldn’t comment in this manner,
It is not the place of servants to be so bold,
But the relationship between us
Miss Jennifer Antribenus,
Is getting too familiar so I ‘m told.

Mr Johnston master of the matters household,
Has threatened that he’ll take me from my job,
That a mistresses chauffer,
Has not a lot to offer,
And besides there is another, and he’s no yob.

At the Christmas bash we danced so very briefly,
And the freckles on your face they drove me wild,
And the texture of your skin,
Pressed gently on my chin,
Made me regret I was not still a child,

For how can I take you where you want to?
Even in your family’s limousine,
When the truth is plain to see,
My love can never be,
That a chauffeur’s wife is only in my dream.

You’re so beautiful Miss Jennifer Antribenus,
You have taken my heart but I doubt you know,
That I dream of you nightly,
And it isn’t very likely,
You will ever think of me and we might vow.

But as I helped you in the Rolls this very morning,
The way you gripped my hand and flashed a winning smile,
Made me see the losing chances,
Of infrequently close dances,
It is you wedding day, your saunter down the aisle.

By the evening you’ll be wedded to another,
A more socially accepted husband cant you see,
And it is breaking my heart,
That our worlds were so apart,
That a servant’s illicit love could never be.

So tomorrow I will take you for your sojourn,
Amidst fine ladies of the socialite rich set,
And await your wildest wishes
Fight off the troubled issues,
Of my love, my heart, my life and my regret.

That I was not what you were strictly born for,
A chauffer of such meagre plans and means,
My only consolation,
An unerring strict devotion,
To the family that owns my life and dreams.

And yet, this evening in the garden after supper,
As I brought your book where a Philadelphius grows
You held my hand for just awhile,
And you’re winning illicit smile,
Gave me hope and love and danger and beguile.

This is just a voyeuristic observation,
Just a meagre servant’s point of view,
But should we really be here,
For the danger is too all clear,
To resist you and your beauty I cannot do,

The freckles on your face like speckled star dust,
Are shining complements to Chestnut hair,
And your dove white silken skin,
And the fire here deep within
Has stripped me of a secret don’t I care.

For another voyeuristic observation,
Mrs Jennifer, the buttons of your dress,
Shouldn’t be that much undone,
Not even in your fun,
I am a vulnerable man with foibles more or less.

They have to do with right, the passion of the night,
And the dangers of dancing near the flame,
So I will go whilst I’m able
To preserve the lovely fable,
Of unrequited love without the pain.

But we are standing much too close for both our comfort
And our lips have almost touched just now and then,
But to retain your reputation
Despite erogenous sensation,
We must never ever meet like this again

But I will not deny the way I’m feeling,
As I take you in my arms and lay you down,
Amidst the scent of summer flowers
Illicit in our love bower,
And I worship silken splendour for my own

And I adore the pretty freckles on your temples,
On your throat and on the cleavage to your breasts,
And this spot we found is ours
Secret shade that’s mine and yours,
Where consummated love we dared caress.

Then in undulating waves we found the glory,
Of naked skins touching; feeling; the splendour of our ride,
And I took you so completely
As you surrendered very sweetly,
In the long cool grass of summer on my pride.

It is just a voyeuristic observation,
Your cries of pain on nature’s loving bed,
Were the cries of a maiden,
Who had never quite been laiden,
Until I came and achieved your Maidenhead.

It is quite plain to see you love your baby,
I can help you every day into the car
And the doting fathers smiles
Hide a factor that beguiles
Nine months back he was out in Zanzibar.

The truth is plain to see my darling Jennifer,
She has your pretty freckles and your hair,
But where did she get that nose,
From her Father I suppose,
It is really quite a troublesome affair.

So in the gentle autumn of my latter years,
I remember you amidst this Isolation
Ours a love that couldn’t be,
But a daughter just like me,
So sorry, Just an old man’s observation.

The End






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Poem Submitted: Thursday, July 14, 2005

Poem Edited: Saturday, May 15, 2010


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