The scent of a woman, a gentle sigh,
The pinkish white flesh of an exposed thigh,
The silk of the hair, the velvet of skin,
The precious moment when kissing begin,
The glint in the eyes, the taste of the lips,
Foretaste of rapture in the arched up hips,
Heavy breathing… and the silence after…
Dissolving in the waking up laughter,
Realising what a nice dream I had…
That I am getting old but not quite dead…
…And my Zimmer frame, standing by my bed…
© P. J. Oszmann (2003)
© Illustration created in Photoshop (2005)
Footnote:
For those not familiar with the term:
Zimmer Frame is an aid for people with walking difficulties.
(In the illustration the old man is holding onto one!)
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"What dreams are made of…" Pays its dues to the treasury of Poetry. It enriches the Major Art, and enchants the world with its hilarious, sensual and symbolistical magic.
I enjoyed the reading of "What dreams are made of…".
Healthy Creative Life, Poet!
Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU
Birgit and Roger
Good one; well done!
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Aemrica, Karen Lynn in Texas. :D
There's hope; there's humor; there's a whole lot of love in this creative, zippy write. Now: what is a Zimmer frame? Enjoyed this one, very much; thanks for writing!
(((((HUGS))))) and love, Karla.