Latin Class
Latin Class
it is written all over him
in words of gesture
phrases of swagger and strut.
the swirl of his cassock, proud
as he flashes into the room
Latin books at the ready.
there is a smile
smouldering inwardly
for only he to see.
I am wanted, he thinks,
they do not know why.
his dark handsome eyes
survey a breathless room
the thorn in their girlish side.
it is safe to display illusive wares
for I am untouchable.
Copyright © Patricia Cresswell | Year Posted 2017
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