Young men are pursuing me,
in my dreams, I am too old
and wily not to recognize
the evil of this intent
wonder if I’m being stalked
by a stroke, or worse –
I wake up, overheated
fling the bedclothes off
as if they are the offending
infiltrators, dismayed to see
how little I have slept, knowing
that the relief will now pass me by
Young men possess a virility
redundant in my life – sexuality
long ago sacrificed on the altar of cancer –
their presence is disconcerting at best
stirring up old emotions, luring me
into nostalgic memories – trickery, I say
to think that masculinity would entertain
intimacy with a mad old hag like me.
(The Daily Post prompt: entertain.
Image: Daily Mail)
Yup, it’s a good one- glad you made creative use of those dreaded wakeful hours
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Really enjoyed this poem!
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Thank you – I wrote it in the middle of the night, rattled by my dream’s and lack of sleep, lol
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amazing what happens then, isn’t it? I find it the same! I had a horrific dream last night and it kept repeating returning to the inevitable which was down a hallway with no way out. I ended up there a half dozen times before I could pull out of it. Creepy. I can still see it clearly in my mind’s eye. Your poem evoked exactly what I’d been going through.
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Oh boy. Hope we get past it tonight, lol.
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You and me too
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brilliant poem VJ! loved it. xx
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Thanks so much! Appreciate it.
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