MEMORIES ON A GREY AFTERNOON

I sat in my comforable chair
Looking out at the greyness
Comfortable and warm
And my thoughts strayed to distant days
And i began to reflect
I had reached a point in my life
Where there was more behind me
Than there was to come
And i looked back on a life
Stretching back across the decades
To simpler times and people
With simpler hopes dreams and aspirations
And I am drawn to the dustiest reaches of the attic
In search of half forgotten memories
In half forgotten boxes
Hidden in the dark and dingy recesses
Of a seldom visited place
Rummaging amidst the dusty flotsam
Accumulated after a long life
They sit untidy and disarranged
As the cobweb covered corners of my mind
Behind the old discarded toys
No longer cool in this electronic age
An old gramophone, a sewing machine
An old rocking chair and pictures long out of fashion
And countless hatboxes
My search is rewarded when I find a box
Beneath the thickest covering of dust
And open it with bated breath
To reveal the accumulated papers of my life
Cards, programs, tickets, souvenirs,
Snapshots of lost moments
And items once to precious to part with
On top football programs
My first England game when we beat Hungary 4 – 1
And Tony Curry scored from outside the box
Assorted United games home and away
The FA cup final when we lost to Arsenal in the last minute
Then my eyes were drawn to a white box
The sort that special greetings card came in
It was immediately familiar
Reminding me of first love
Carefully boxed and kept
The love letters from Janice
Scented with cheap perfume
Full of young girls chatter
About favourite pop groups and fashions
And the days “must haves”
Talk of adolescent love and longing
Kept in the same box fondly remembered
The perfume still evocative
Though faded like the memory
But I could see her pretty face
Framed with fine brown hair
Bobbed so it kissed her neck as she moved
Her developing figure that hinted at what would be
Her gentle laugh that made you turn your eyes to her
The soft delicate hands that felt so good in mine
That first kiss that lingered on my lips
Long after we parted
I wonder how her life went
What kind of woman did she become
Did her aspirations bear fruit?
Or did she muddle through the years like all of us
Best not to know probably
The truth might diminish the memory
Of sweet young Janice
I set the box aside and rummage deeper
I come to another box and look inside
It’s full of photos of long forgotten friends
And souvenirs of a day trip to France
When we had to carry John back to the boat
I laughed to myself
Beneath that box was a party invitation
The party where I first met Fiona
A beautiful girl in a woman’s body
Who chose me despite a host of suitors
And we danced into the night
Her firm body pressed against mine
Arms clinging tightly to me
Her breath against my neck
In full view of envious eyes
And later in passionate embrace
Just the two of us in the darkness
I paused briefly at the memory and sighed
Then delved deeper into the box
Where Beneath the invitation was an envelope
I opened it tipping out its contents
Half a dozen photos and a Wimbledon program
Fell into my lap, I turned over the top photo
And Yvonne’s sweet face
Smiled at me from a discoloured print
I recalled the day instantly
It was at Wimbledon long long ago
She had begged me to take her
I liked tennis but I liked her more so I agreed
Suddenly I could smell her
And hear the infectious little giggle
And feel her touch on my skin
Her lips on mine
The memory of the day was so vivid
And of the days of unbridled passion that followed
When the wonders of her soft body
Were yielded to me
Then I put everything back into the box
And left the dusty confines of the attic
I returned to my armchair
And continued in my reflection
My searching had left me feeling both happy and sad
Happy at the rekindled memories
Sad because they were only that
Happy to have experienced them
And sad because I would never again

AFTERNOON DELIGHT

I stood in the bathroom doorway
And watched her stir
The afternoon sunlight
Painted patterns on her naked contours
As it shone through the billowing curtains
Her hair, still damp from our passionate exertions
Clung to her face and neck
And beads of sweat sparkled on her skin
She lay on her side
Knees drawn up to her belly
Showing off the wonderful sweep
From narrow waist to curvaceous hip
And the perfect roundness of sumptuous buttocks
Then she rolled on to her back as she stirred again
And the magnificence of her was there before me
With patterns of light and dark dancing over her form
Her nipples aroused as the soft breeze wafted over her
Her eyes opened and she smiled when she saw me
She sat up and brushed the hair from her face
Then moved onto her knees and stretched
Leaning back until her hands touched the bed behind her
Supporting herself on clenched fists
And throwing her head right back
Until her black hair tumbled down her back
My eyes slowly scanned the beauty of her
From the cascading black hair
Down the cords and sinews of her neck
To the fine structure of her shoulders
Dwelling on her firm breasts and proud nipples
Before continuing to the soft down on her flat belly
And her round hips and buttocks
Before reaching the thick black triangle
And her long taught thighs either side
I left the doorway and picked my way
Through the discarded clothing on the floor
To reach the bed where she now sat
Sitting on her haunches she looked at me
A radiant smile illuminating her face
With eyes that said “again”

REFLECTED GLORY

She sits before the mirror
Head inclined
Fine brown hair falls off her shoulders
Cascading down one side
The evening sun shimmering on the fine strands
The lustrous skin of her shoulders and back,
Naked but for the slender straps of her dress
Silently invites my caress
Her heady perfume filled the room
Invading my senses like a fragrant garden after summer rain
The fabric of her dress hugs the wondrous contours I know so well
In the mirror her hazel eyes look back at me
As she sees me watching her
And knowing my thoughts her reflection smiles
And at its radiance my heart soars
Making me want her
I don’t ask why she loves me
I just thank god for her
For her elegant beauty
And for the greater beauty inside
This evening I must share her
But later she will be mine alone
So for now I bath in the reflected glory of her

LE BICYCLETTE DE BELSIZE

As I drive home from work, with the evening
sun still beating down hot on the windscreen, I
come to an abhorrent obstruction in the
road, a cyclist the worst site to any driver with
somewhere to go and a finite time
to get there. I was driving down a very
narrow lane following a cyclist that I
knew I couldn’t pass when I noticed the cyclist
for the first time, her brown hair dancing across
her shoulders contrasting starkly with the white of
the cotton blouse which tapered down to her
narrow waist before disappearing into
the waist band of her gray checked skirt.
I pondered briefly on the name of the pattern
was it “Hounds tooth, Prince of Wales then the cloth
stretched tight against her cheeks as she was stood
up in the saddle as we climbed the hill, her long
tanned legs powering her on and her
buttocks reshaped themselves again
and again, I could only imagine what
was happening in front of her out of my
view, then the material was tight against her
curves once more as her bottom perched
back on the saddle and every bump in the road
brought a new quiver to her plaid clad cheeks
and a delicious new tingling to my loins
then all at once the lane ended and she was gone
down a path went the girl and the bike she sat upon

SPANISH EYES

I sat drinking black coffee alone in the café
I noticed her instantly as she entered
powerless my eyes, like magnets were drawn
towards the striking young woman’s beauty, her hair
black as a raven’s wing caressed the dark
skin of her shoulders, its dark lustre framed
the simple beauty of her face, which I studied.
Firstly her full moist lipped smile, the delicate
curve of her nose and finally the depth of her
dark brown eyes, she looked back at me holding
my gaze, as if reading my thoughts and touching my soul.
My eyes wandered the soft brown nakedness
of her neck and shoulders until reaching
her bountiful breasts where white lace fringed
their fullness, her smile broadened and her
cheeks flushed as if she could feel the stirring of
my loins, she turned away and I continued my
journey, the cloth of her trousers fitted her
firm buttocks like a second skin hugging
her contours as I wanted to. As she sat down
opposite me my gaze once more returned
to the plumpness of her fine young breasts as they
rearranged themselves within their lacy
confines. Then our eyes met again and she
smiled knowing my thoughts and revelling in
them. She paused and opened her bag and
took out a cigarette and holding it
in her slender fingers for a moment
before placing it between her moist lips
envying its intimacy as I lit it
I bought her coffee and we talked and laughed
drank more coffee talked and laughed some more
Although her fine young body gave rise to sighs
I was held captive by her Spanish eyes

KISS

I meet her gaze I help her stand
I hold my breath and kiss her hand
I see her blush her cheeks red now
I smell her hair and kiss her brow
It brings me joy to hear her speak
I take her hand and kiss her cheek
I feel her skin neath my finger tips
I hold her face and kiss her lips
Our loves true passions now begin
I caress her form and kiss her skin
Our passions flow like summer rain
Our loves fulfilled as we kiss again
In the afterglow in fond embrace
We speak of love and I kiss her face

JANE

Slenderly petite in stature
Adorned in shades of pastel nature
Hair the hue of copper red
Held with ribbon atop her head
Beneath her crimson fringe she views
Through shining eyes of brightest blue
With smiling confidence she speaks
Though with a blush upon her cheeks
Her lips soft pink and parted slightly
Aglow with luster and smiling brightly
She moves with elegance and grace
On dainty feet from place to place
Ivory hands of delicate softness
Fine fingers move with subtle deftness
No ring adorns her left hand finger
No marriage for this sweet joy bringer
Her eyes light up this radiant beauty
Her mouth turns up at corner cutely
Her countenance becomes breathtaking
It stops my heart but not from breaking
So who’s this angel you enquire?
Who’s this paragon of sweet desire?
So who’s this angel you ask again?
Why the angels name is simply Jane
An angel true from heaven above
Sent to touch my life with love
This capturer of hearts divine
I hope one day to make her mine