Silver Spoon
Dear Mother’s new flamboyant beau
Suggested I should take a job,
Instead I hopped aboard our Lear
And winged my way to St. Tropez
To mope, quiescent, on hot sand,
Ambivalent for Mother, dear,
Until a moment, most arcane,
Renewed in me my joie-de-vivre:
My brooding eyes glimpsed up to spy,
‘Neath immolation of the sun,
The quintessence of bare beach breasts
And luscious curves of passing femme—
When, up, I bounced to meet her cheeks
And volunteer as tactile friend,
Some intercessor glanced my way
(With barrel chest and tight Speedo):
She kissed that man with bright amour
And life, again, turned bittersweet,
So off I sailed upon our yacht
To test the beach of sun-flecked Cannes.
November 7, 2016
Ten Word Challenge-2 Contest
John Hamilton, Sponsor
flamboyant, quiescent, ambivalent,
arcane, immolation, quintessence,
luscious, tactile, intercessor,
bittersweet
Copyright © David Bose | Year Posted 2016
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