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Imagine This Embrace
by
Rusty Broadspear
A very
classy box of fresh fruit truffles,
Layered and coated with full cream chocolate,
Placed on the coffee table, just so,
Invitingly opened, with wicked, playful menace.
Another open box, this one, polished rose wood,
Small, velvet lined.
Inside, leaning at a precise angle, to disperse the
sunlight,
Into myriad delights,
A ring, a solitaire diamond, a declaration in
stone.
Soft classical music stroked the air
To the point of quivering submission.
An air of apprehension filled the room,
Mingling with odours of leather and quality.
A feather quill lay dormant on the bureau,
Beside a note, written with calligraphic expertise.
Comatose words until slender hands
Hold the page and read.
Beside the baby grand,
A small table intricately laid for afternoon tea.
An exquisite orchid in a silver goblet,
A fitting centrepiece.
The players were not to be seen or heard,
For they are in our minds.
We all deliver or we receive,
Each role offers a unique fragility of beauty.
If.......... I was the deliverer.............
I would taste her lips upon arrival,
Take her coat, invite her into the room,
To become comfortable.
Whilst I excuse myself,
To uncork and prepare the port.
She will experience precious, private moments,
But as she reads my words,
I will enter with with port and crystal glasses.
The silver salver, I will place beside the ring.
The music will build and soften,
She will turn to me, swinging her hair.
I will walk to her smile
And we will, so softly, so gently, so knowingly,
Embrace.
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