My Missing Prince
I've been single now for quite some time.
Home alone, just me and mine.
It's nice to hear the clock tick,
whenever peace is what I seek.
Play my music to suit my mood.
Cook my own favoutite food.
But something's missing from the mix.
Something niggling to be fixed.
I can't decide what it is I crave.
A prince, a knight, a rogue, a knave?
Why would I want to spoil my fun
Try to accomodate someone?
I can't help it, I am a flirt.
I need a hand beneath my skirt.
The push and pull of minds that meet.
The tender act that is so sweet.
But how to meet that special one?
Crux of my problem, 'tis troublesome.
Those dating sites have dulled my brain.
Revolving faces drive me insane.
Like The Paul Jones from years ago.
Where circles whizz then slow.
Until face to face with God knows what.
When one was put on the spot.
Now, they just keep whizzing by.
Reluctant to stop, just want to spy.
Too old, too young, too fat ,too slim.
They make decisions on a whim.
It's all kiss me quick, next one please.
I refuse to get down on my knees.
I'm sure in time my urge will pass.
Not want that hand upon my ass.
Nor want to tease or be held tight.
Or even end up in a fight.
In the meantime I'll keep looking.
To try and get something cooking.
Copyright © Jean Murray | Year Posted 2016
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