Wait for me
at the top of the old stairs
where the creaks are the loudest
and splinters catch your nightgown
as you walk up to bed
By the old water pump
wait for me
to talk of fairies and nymphs
that play in the creek bed
known only to you
On the old back porch
where the old men waste time
wait for me
as the sunsets
and the men have gone to dinner
In the middle of the strawberry rows
when the heat begins grow
on your straight tan back
wait for me
to kiss your toes
Deep in the woods
at the edge of the property
cool even in the heat of the day
and dim enough to hide our secrets away
wait for me
One of the first poems I’d had a chance to read so far today, and I am just touched by this. Beautiful.
Romantic and lovely imagery! So beautiful!