by Glen Martin Fitch
Soft and firm, but cold!
I see you slide about
Kissing everything below,
Even what the sun can't see.
He must be part fish too.
How he bobs and sinks and bounds.
Yes, I could splash with him,
But I don't.
If I were you, I'd move in close,
Offer him your back to ride,
Show him where his gills should be
And how to flick a tail.
I'd nibble at the moss
Running round his nipples,
Trace it down his chest,
His navel and beyond.
If I could get that close
I would--
Instead I linger here
Torturing my toes.
But you! What's stopping you?
Don't dally here with me.
Make waves with Neptune's pal
And kiss him since I can't.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Glen Fitch is a 16th Century poet lost in the 21st Century. Born near Niagara Falls, educated in the Catskills, thirty years on the Monterey Bay he now lives in Palm Springs. Retail not academics has paid the bills. Someday he will finish Spenser's "The Fairie Queene."
Last updated August 23, 2011