Poetry Monday

For my Cookie

"Write Good Sex Baby, I Love You"
reads the note stuck to my wall.
"There is coffee in the kitchen.
Drink some water, I will call."

How'd I ever live without him?
I inhale the coffee's steam.
He's my winning lotto ticket,
he's my living, breathing dream.

"How you feeling? How's the writing?
Work is fine the place is packed.
Tell me what you want for dinner,
I will make it when I'm back."

What did I do to deserve him?
I dont cook and I cant sew.
I am scatterbrained and flightly.
Yet he loves me, why? Who knows.

"Did you write good sex today hon?
Man, its good to see your face.
Will I read it? Sure, I'd love to.
Take a bite, how does this taste?"

He defends me from all comers
who would dare to doubt my goals.
He is brave and he is goofy
He's the balance in my soul.

So I hold him in the evening
and I tell him how I feel.
How I thank whoever sent him
How my love is true and real.

And he smiles as if I've given him
the world, the moon, the sky.
And I know that's all he wanted.
All he'll ask for till he dies.

After all the years of lonely isolation
pain and doubt
I hear "Write Good Sex, sweet baby."
And I know what love's about.


© R.G. Alexander