Am not
Fool, but my own.


Body Building

Comfortable in my own skin
For a thousand years or more
Inner calm and outer grin
Oozing from every pore

Tender care for follicles
That blossom forth with fur
Showing off unruly curls
That underline his ‘her’

Nibbled nails that niggle
Catching, snagging, telling tales
Tiny scars that wriggle
As hands flex and curl and wave

Gentle as a monolith
That towers high above
The pillory of Lilith
For whom Adam held no love

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?