Fumblings
by cricketjeff on November 1, 2009. © Jeff Green, All rights reserved
An evening at the pictures, then a shelter for the bus;
Embarrassed looks and fumblings, it seems a lot of fuss.
Her eyes are closed and his are too, two noses in the way.
While foolish little giggles hide the things they want to say.
His arms are round her tightly, though she doesn’t want escape,
He’s worried if his fingers stray perhaps she’ll call it rape.
Her breathing’s getting deeper and she doesn’t want to wait.
With heads both tilted clockwise now it’s time to meet their fate,
A tentative encounter, both their mouths are tightly closed
But instinct’s taking over and improvement’s soon imposed.
Her mouth has fallen open and his tongue has found her teeth,
His hands have found her trousers and her bottom underneath.
The bus arrives, and then departs, I hope it’s not the last,
The only thing that matters is this feeling’s unsurpassed.
With four numb lips and tickled tongues they catch the final bus
Where upstairs two teenagers know – a kiss is worth the fuss!
English