Wetherby Poem by Francesca Johnson


Rating: 4.1

Whether or not to be
in Wetherby.

Not for the races,
no, not those sort of paces
but a walk
to the George or the Dragon
to gorge
on good company,
have a pint,
some fish and chips
and a look
at the river.
Good for the liver?
Maybe not.
But good for the soul, he says.
A delightful stroll,
hand in hand
with his woman.

And later, some beautiful loving,
stroking, moaning, breathless groaning,
heavenly sighs,
a rhythm
between her thighs,
quickening to the climax,
rising, rising,
to the final release.

His phone rings.
His wife asks how the overtime is going.
He tells her it is hectic,

as he always does.

Bob Blackwell 27 April 2008

I echo Ian's sentiments here and say it is my favourite poem. You catch the inevitable ending well. Bob

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okeydokey #3 09 January 2008

hi...told you i would write...this is a good poem...i really appreciate the craftiness and wit behind it...been awhile since i have read...a witty poem...sweet...haha...is this based on a specific story...or a simple concept...either way..it is fantastic...and i would love to know...more about it...

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Ian Bowen 09 January 2008

This is a very clever write, and one I will commit to memory. I would have to say this is my favourite poem on PoemHunter. Ian

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Original Unknown Girl 07 January 2008

Whether or not you agree with the subject matter, one cannot help but identify with this one. It's raw, all out there and gives it a poignancy that makes the reader recoil at the last two stanzas. Finely crafted work here Fran. It's honest. And that's what I like.... HG: -) xx

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Fran, this is exquisitely, painfully penned. That wonderful companionship of love followed by the surge of disappointment and, worse, the feeling that the author is almost used to or expecting that letdown. Sigh. t x

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