Thursday, March 31, 2011

Tasmanian Europa Poets' Gazette No 84, April 2011

Puppy Love

When her head inclined towards his

he could smell her fragrant hair

and his concentration vanished

as a wisp of smoke in air.

To her softly spoken question

his mouth had mumbled words

though they were incoherent

so she’d not clearly heard,

then she asked if he’d repeat them

but his head kept spinning more,

all he wished for was an opening

so he’d slip down through the floor.

His face was glowing hotly

with involuntary red

and the thought that she may see it

simply added to his dread.

Then suddenly she’d moved away

attending to another

leaving him lost in confusion

and struggling to recover

so that no one else would notice

how he’d felt so near to Heaven

when getting close attention

from his teacher in grade seven!

© Pete Stratford


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