Under where –
secrets hidden
await the eyes
of the old man
sitting in the park
creepily on a bench
outside a tennis court
waiting for a glimpse
be it of frill or a lace
or maybe a flash of flesh
from someone less
inhibited and maybe
just a little naughty.

~~~~~~~~

Was tasked once, for a class to write a poem about something really different…like underwear…so I wrote this. It has been through many re-writes over the years, but it hasn’t changed too much. It has a certain “Aqualung” quality. *kudos to those who get that reference*

Hope it made you a least smile.

Enjoy!