![]() DESIRE WITHIN.A Poem by Terry Collett![]() A YOUNG GIRL AND HER DESIRE FOR HER BROTHER'S FRIEND IN 1964.![]()
Monica watched Benedict
practise Judo with her brothers on the grass by the fence. She watched from her bedroom window. She had parted the drawn curtains with her fingers enough to see without being seen. She cheered him on in an urgent voice. She would have gone down and cheered him on from the sidelines, but she was still in her nightwear and by the time she had a wash and dressed they would be gone. Watching him made her excited; it was a physical thing, something she could almost point to, sense and touch with her fingers. She stared down at him, watched his every move. Sometimes he would take on both boys at a time and defeat them both, other times he took them one at a time and they would end up on their backs on the grass. Wish he would put me on the grass, she whispered to the pane of glass, touch me as he does them. She couldn’t describe how he made her feel. Whom could she ask? Her mother would scorn her for even asking such a question. She wished she had a sister to ask, but all she had was three brothers. There was cheering from outside, Benedict had fallen. He had miscalculated a move and fallen on his back. There was laughter as he rose and dusted himself off. Oh, she murmured. She put a hand to her lips. His head turned towards the window; she backed away. Had he seen her? Heard her voice? She moved back to the window and peered out. They were practising again. But this time it was karate, they were breaking pieces of wood with the side of their hands. She wished she could be out there. Near him, sensing him close to her. He came most Saturdays to be with her brothers. They worked in the week at the nurseries half mile away. Sometimes she was up early and caught him before her brothers were out and she talked with him. Once he took her to see the peacocks, riding on their bikes to get there. She had wanted him to kiss her, but he hadn’t. So near to her, yet she daren’t reach out and touch him, that day. She stood at the window and stared at him. He had taken off his jacket and was in tee shirt and jeans. They fought each other now, their blows barely touching, the karate touches merely skimming the skin. Odd this sensation flowing through me, she said, this expanding desire within. © 2013 Terry CollettFeatured Review
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StatsAuthor![]() Terry CollettUnited KingdomAboutTerry Collett has been writing since 1971 and published on and off since 1972. He has written poems, plays, and short stories. He is married with eight children and eight grandchildren. on January 27t.. more..Writing
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