James W. Reynolds


Unlike some gentlemen,
I was never tempted by twins.
They never captivated me –
until that pink-driven spring
when I encountered your proud peaks
in a downy form-fitting sweater.
Then I couldn’t get twins off my mind.

I will also confess surprise
that you pounced upon my timid feeler.
I expected you three to ignore me.

Even more –
I expected you to run
after that first fumbling night
of errant probes and prods,
but you stayed.

Eventually winter came,
but you did not come with it.
That left me cold and relieved.

There was a time
during that fevered summer
when I was concerned
that I should love you less.
As it turns out,
that would have been impossible.


 Venerable Men of Middle Age

Cinnamon skin and siren eyes
though those are hard to see –
seduced as she obviously is
by the dark shine of my shoes.

Provoked by her coy curiosity
I quickly come to realize
she wants to see some more of me.

And why wouldn’t she?
I have heard from men I trust
(venerable men of middle age)
that young women are into us.

We’re patient because we’re slow
and we can talk for hours
about the things we know.
Some of us have money to spend
and while we may lack vigor
we found a cure with medicine.

Now she’s looking at my knee
so I’m making progress –
soon she’ll see the rest of me.
And she’ll be mute no more
if I can just get her to glance
a little further up my pants.

© James W. Reynolds

James W. Reynolds lives in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia and is a member of Valley Writers in Roanoke.  His work has been published in Ariel ChartParodyThe Broadkill Review, and Scarlet Leaf Review.  It will also appear in upcoming editions of Defenestration and Lighten Up Online.

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