October 9th, 2008

Nocturne

I started this on the train home.  I suppose it's a miniature love story, perhaps more racy than graceful:

He did not think that love was for the asking,
but, feeling hopeful, asked her nonetheless
if she would stroll with him across the park.

The red sun vanished.  Still they went on basking
in mutual warmth, and then a soft caress,
her hand upon his arm, threw off a spark.

The conversation took a turn, unmasking
the strength of his desire to possess
the depths of her.  She made a smart remark,

deriding hesitation, and then tasking
her wooer to show fire, not finesse.
He took her and she melted in the dark.