Hormone Hiatus Poem by Phil Ward

Tap tap, tapping,
The persistent tapping of rain on my window ledge,
Or was it the door?
Was it rain drops or the man next door?
Alone in my bed I lie half awake,
Reliving what happened the recollection opaque.
His hands round my neck on the back of my head,
These were my thoughts as I lie in my bed.

Tapping again or was it a knock,
Eyes tight closed anxiety grows,
Then it fades away as the noise subsides.
My thumping heart hiding inside
my chest the tingling down my spine,
Anticipating angst divine.

He only moved in a week ago,
Arrived in a van and all on his own,
I watched from the window, behind the curtain,
I wanted to know,
I had to be certain.
Was he the type I wanted next door?
Not nerdy or geeky or a crashing boar.
I introduced myself to know,
I did that all a week ago.

And I’ve met him since, just once or twice,
A greeting nod,
“Hi” he said,
Dashingly smart he dresses each day,
I wonder what he’s like in bed.
I can’t believe I thought of that,
It’s not like me, my mind’s not dirty
I’m just a normal single girl,
Blame my hormones on reaching thirty.

I wonder what he thought of me, my well rehearsed choreography
Performing my new shopping dance
Accidental? Not a chance.
And there I was in fruit and veg,
In the frozen food, by the hot food counter,
We passed each other along each isle,
And as we did I gave a smile.
I wouldn’t say I was discreet acting like a cat on heat,
I treat men like a fresh croissant,
Devouring whole the one I want.

Back at home and in the porch on the stairs and in the hall,
I threw myself quite wantonly,
I don’t know what came over me,
He acted very gentlemanly,
The end result was heavenly.

Now I lie out in my bed
Reflecting on the things I said,
Will he talk to me again?
Or will he think that I’m insane?