We visiting
the vicar & his wife
both so:
'nice! '
We 3
perched upon
the edge of a comfy chintz setee
as we await
him to grace us
with his presence.
Apparaently he's
in Heaven
in his garden
tending his prize
roses.
'Do you know anything
of roses, Mr. Dempsey? '
she enquires
hardly moving her porcelain mouth.
I admit
my ignorance
& we all gaze into the glorious
visita of rose upon rose
as if this indeed was
rose heaven
when suddenly
the vicar's presence
is made all
too aware to
us
as he waters
his precious roses
with something
in his hand
that is not
a watering can.
You later admitted
you had never seen)
a vicar
so well hung
- how many vicars have you known? -
& felt a little twang
of envy towards
his missus.
His wife
still without
moving her
porcelain mouth
enquires postively
politely:
'More tea...
...anyone? '
*******
Just Like That Bird
The stolen kiss
in the vicar's rose garden
when we were left
all alone
when he went to write
Sunday's sermon
('I hope that you...don't mind? ')
And an invisible bird
turned all the world
into song.
And his wife smiling: 'I hope
you don't mind if I...answer the phone? '
Her laughter
like fine bone china
tinkling from
another room.
That stolen kiss
was like you took each disc
from my back bone
(my Kundalini shivered)
cleaned and polished
each one 'til they shone
& put it back again
into my spinal colum
& the I
of me
glowed
into sheer elation
taking my skull
in your delicate fingertips
tidying my thoughts
up a bit
tighting the screw that
was loose
(you always knew)
& placed
it just so
(I almost didn't know
my self)
...'til it(& I) were perfect
just as the footfall
of the vicar's wife
appeared & apologised
enquired
(as if the world
turned on tea)
'More tea
...anyone? '
And we said: 'No thank you! '
'And we think we ought to be going! '
I still
dazed
(amazed)
at that kiss
turning
the world into song
just like that bird!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Donall, Mildly wicked and irreverent. Love it. Peace, Ray