Mature woman seeks grown-up man

Who remembers to hold doors & push in chairs

One who looks at me & sees True Love

His heart must be open, but not needy

His shirts free of stains

Tho wrinkled & that thrift-shop smell are okay

He must be ready to have me blanket him with love

Tuck myself around his edges

With comfort, with not a little heat of passion

If interested, please reply.

Think if a bright melody – a Carol!

Then stand by for all the love you’ve ever wanted!


I cried in my sleep for passion

My body woke & went seeking

Every pore alert

Oh, I found men whose antennae turned to my passing

Who were sweaty with need

But could not rise to any occasion.

I found some who drowned in my big brown eyes

But came up sputtering, shaking like wet dogs

Tucking tails to whimper away the prospect.

The men my age suspect wide-eyed innocence

No matter how sincere its aspect

How grounded, not in loveliness

But in that ravenous desire to offer another all I have become


Dear Sir,

I write in application

To the position you once took

On dreams coming true.

On hands that know their way around

On (excuse me here) a mouth made for kissing

I heard you were seeking

A heart made from Joy

A holy will to step into harness with wisdom

With that understanding that goes without words

I am bold to say I am she.

I am an invitation to love

Ever-ready, not mother, nor sister, but blessing

A match waiting to be made of heaven.

I am a story written by a child


Before I knew words, but only sound

Despite my years, there is that of me untouched

Calling life in, for I am greatly hungered

One day I will be set as a feast

For the man that is my wave rushing to shore

The one I shall never whisper back from

I am the hook & anchor for your love…

That last swallow of honeyed tea where all the sweet resides.