Do I dare say the things I want to say
ask questions never asked
because of fright, a coward's plight?
To hide between a nod and smile
die a thousand tiny d**hs
and try to bring the subject up
that lies between tongue and lip.
Dare I let it slip.
And if I say your deafness to my eyes
that beg to speak is you ignoring me,
is that wrong?
I say the morning tea is cold
the toast too dry to eat and you my love behave
as one of higher breeding
as you should in parlours
of burnished leather coffee tables
set with silver services,
filigreed with porpoises and mermaids in proper attire.
Spoons of enormous potential
and three tined forks, tridents fit for Gods in royal dress.
But not here in this inexpensive room
with wooden bowls and copper spoons.
We should be able to slob around
and not sit or stand in posed positions.
relax and sip hot tea, toast with jelly.
So come, we shall go down, skip out on this horrid room
find a portion of space, a place on a bench outside,
to grace with you and I, eat fish and chips
out of old-newspaper cones
folded to catch the grease before it hits our knees.
Each will have a pint of beer, warm as they drink it here
and watch the walkers and bicycle riders
And when done, if you agree, we can return,
turn the covers down and hold each other
until morning's sunlight prods our eyes.
if you still sleep, I'll ma**age your feet
soles, ankles, calves as you like me to,
and when done, if it leads to early morning loving,
we shall greet the day with endearing looks
smiles and tender conversations
Then find a place to breakfast.