Sundays with John
sunday morning dripping down
and thick with syrup sin
smeared with butter lustily
and slippery smile-ing
sideways forking pancakes as
you derby-read results
fries and toast like humor wry
with eyes which wetly waltz
over mouths that soft and warm
and not unlike this stack
lift sweet and map-ly, griddle-born
to pillow-lips and smack!
scrambled or like sunday morn
o'er easy eggy-wegs
strawberry and mixed fruit jam
you spread and I my legs
over-alls and under you
a glass of creamy white
you stir into your coffee
bid adieu, saturday night.
poem by Kathryn Sweet
Added by Poetry Lover
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