Polka Dot Dress

The stocking tops
That winked at me
As hips were rocking
Mini’s swish

Were indiscreet
And quite a treat
To showcase pins
Just so delish’

As lover’s hand
Unclasping yours
To brush imagined
Lint away

Caressed a cheeky
Glimpse of what
Was all too briefly
On display

I pursed my lips
And flicked the scarf
That passed for chic
To my dismay

And felt at last
The jealousy
Occasioned by
My own decay

Now deemed too old
I missed my cue
To frolic in
My underthings

And now in public
Daren’t do
Exposure of
What nature brings

I bear no grudge
Though smooth-skinned youth
Exists to underline
Old age

But bare my head
And paint my face
And lie when asked
What’s all the rage?

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Wicked Truths

Fear and guilt implied
You provoked a scene
Now the world has lied
To deny what’s been

Guilty conscience herd
Legislation late
Undermining words
We’d all love to hate

Did you really think
With the box in hand
No one snuck a peek
In the whole damn land?

Were we so naive
Docile and secure
That we disbelieve
All the things he saw?

Now the whistle blown
Plays a waiting game
As he’s hunted down
For exposing shame

And our lives go on
At the same slow pace
While we log each bomb
Lobbed in cyberspace

Losing my mind

I’m sure I left it somewhere
Underneath the bush we planted
Sweet smell of lavender
To cover the gap in the fence

Back before I met you
In a dim-lit bar in Manchester
Dripping with adventure
Now a lifetime ago

Perhaps it’s just hidden
Down behind the sofa cushions
Huddled between the gathered dust
And your key to the Peugeot

On top of the wardrobe
Sleeping in a hatbox
Full of moth-eaten gloves
With my wedding handkerchief

Beneath the kitchen cabinets
Disguised by its companions
A wandering teaspoon and
Some pea-escapees

It’ll turn up again
You say with that
Bad-penny certitude
I have come to expect

Until then I have you
Who lie to my face
In an attempt at conviction
Of my undiscovered brilliance