Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

Don’t the minutes seem like hours as we run the office maze?
Then we wonder where the time went; time seduces, time betrays,
Till we’ve got to pause between midnight and dawn 
To recover from the strain. We hear the same drop of rain.

You can sense the knotted tension neatly coiled around my gut;
All those squeaky apprehensions swinging open, swinging shut.
Need to oil that hinge with a scotch on the rocks, 
Or whatever dulls the pain. We hear the same drop of rain.

And it’s pounding on the darkness, and it’s pounding on the heat,
And it’s pounding on the silence so hard,
Like the taunting of The Raven, and The Tell-tale Heart combined,
Or some oriental torture – diabolic, yet refined.

I can sense your desperation when a deadline’s drawing near.
And your maddening frustration is reflected in the mirror.
And you’d like to scream, but the rules clearly state: 
It’s improper to complain. We hear the same drop of rain.

Can ya catch the sweet distraction glimmer coyly through this mess?
Can ya taste the shy desire? I’ve been tempted to confess
What I fantasize when I’m thinking of you 
Isn’t easy to contain. We hear the same drop of rain.

We’ve been running at the power, we’ve been running at the glory,
We’ve been running at the money so hard.
I don’t know if I should tell what I imagine we might do
On a stormy night together when the working day is through.

When the minutes seem like hours and the hours seem like days,
I’ll be waiting there to court you with a sly, flirtatious gaze.
And it takes my breath, should our eyes chance to meet –  
It’s both sacred and profane. We hear the same drop of rain.

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