Ode to Peeping Tom
I peep through corkscrew chinks in doorways
The summer moon has drawn his curtains
declaring all shutters and windows shut
the wind is preparing a speech
the trumpeters a fanfare
She didn’t choose the plucky pony with a spring in its step
instead the hot proud palfrey for his smooth ambling
See how she strokes his ears
pats his hind quarters enamoured with his shape
Notice how she bows her face in prayer
pushing her ringlets against round breasts
swings her thigh
slips her Venus mound
straddles velvet birds of paradise
how fine threads of fur mingle
I don’t know if I’ve ever loved a fragrance
half as much as her smell at midday
As her stud trots through fields of heather, the sun dressing her in lace
purple brushing her fringe
I imagine the dance of the seven veils
& how quickly John lost his head
Kathleen Strafford has been published in magazines & online: Interpreter’s House, Butcher’s Dog, Fat Damsel, Ink Sweat and Tears, Panoply, and various anthologies. Her Own Language published by Dempsey and Windle