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The Fool
| Open Poetry #24 |
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The Fool |
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SPIRIT Senior Member
since 2002-12-29
Posts 1745California Desert |
THE FOOL I experienced, For the second time In as many days, An unrecognizable feeling. In a heartbeat I knew, Without even turning around, That you had entered the cafe. Such an unbelievably Strange sensation, I reacted in this same manner When I had seen you, For the first time, As you had arrived In our small community, Sitting astride One of the largest Harley's I had ever seen. That surely has to be An amazingly Over-powering, contrivance Of mans' ingenuity, genius And unabashed mechanical skills. Enormously impressive though, That as big as the 'hog' was, You completely empowered it. You sat it, as if, You and the bike Had an ongoing, close relationship. As if you and machinery Had melded, become one. The control that you, obviously, Exercised over it was apparent, Even to me, and I was one Who was never impressed, By motor bikes, Let alone their riders. There was an excitement In observing you. How disconcerting, When you came into the cafe. But regardless, I, the owner of said cafe, Opted to wait on you. Talk about being flustered. Fortunately, I managed, Without making a complete And utter fool of myself. I couldn't help but notice The large band of gold Prevalent, on your left hand. That did not stop my somewhat Demonic thoughts about you. The dazzling chrome on your bike Reflected the sun, Through the glass. I pulled down the shades slightly To stop the blinding glare. How much more noticeable That made your features. You looked so young, So virile, in spite of Obviously premature Touches of gray In your hair and beard. Your face had such A strength of character Etched in it, a cragginess That was very sexy, that spoke Of a masculinity That knew no boundaries, Or fears. It was rugged, So strong, All that I craved to have, All that I had never had. My silliness was amusing, Yet it taunted me. I had to go to the ladies room To give myself a reality check. As I peered at myself, In the cracked mirror That hung, Somewhat crookedly Over the washbasins, The truth slapped me Very hard and cruelly I was old enough To be your mother, If I had, had you, Somewhat LATE IN LIFE. |
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neveah5 Member
since 2002-11-22
Posts 197Ohio |
This is an interesting story  |
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