Song Of The Peeping Tom Poem by Michael Philips

Song Of The Peeping Tom

Rating: 5.0

The essential Mosquito repellant
On summer oven nights
When the lenses can fog like smudged chalkboards
And shirt-tail erasers are raised

From this darkroom of dank oak,
oleander, and wet soil
I greet you, my love
With detached binocular intimacy.

Your routine bed preparations are haikus
of petals opening, freshly peeled tangerines,
and angels heralding,
heightened by you believing
you recite them to yourself alone.

Your candy skin kissed by lamplight
Your chestnut hair swaying like satin curtains
Brief moments of breast and pubic shadow are sacred
gifts. I utter prayers of deepest gratitude,
for these sights bring us together, like massive ropes
pulling the freighter to the dock.

And I am the longshoreman
downloading the sequence unfolding nearly always the same
Even checking your clock is a special measure in the sonata.
I know these rituals as well as you
And my love has entered your atmosphere unknown
and unseen like microbes dusting and dancing about you.
With neither arguments nor sour moods, I can
have you as I imagine you.
Sleep tight, my love, and
God bless this window for your deliverance unto me.

Herbert Nehrlich1 13 January 2005

Windows of opportunity or windows 98? H

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Lenchen Elf 13 January 2005

Impressive, just musing, some might thank Bill Gates for opening so many windows in this way: -)

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Herbert Nehrlich1 12 January 2005

Is that the third house from the corner by the drugstore? Yes she is scrumptious but I am too far away, at the incorrect angle. May I visit you? Poem is well done. H

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