Hunting My Wild Sweet On An Otherwise Ordinary Day

I peeked my head around the corner,

eyed her up and down,

and meeting eyes with me, she giggled.

A wiggle of my eyebrows,

and the hunt was on.

I ducked back,

to hear her peals of laughter,

like angellic bells,

a chorus of delight.

A different time, a different place,

my father pulled me aside.

He was wide eyed,

and he said,

"She has got the prettiest laugh,"

"I know," I said.

I know, I know, I know.

Always the guys around me,

would pull me aside,

and say, "your woman is gorgeous,"

telling me, as if I didn't know

how beautiful she was.

And 'your woman',

as if I've ever owned a woman

in the first place.

But anyway,

there I am,

creeping around the corner,

stepping quietly up to her.

She was looking down, trying hard to read,

instead ending up pretending to read,

while my slow, careful movements,

elicited a giggle of suspense,

a laugh that could make the room stop.

And it was all for me.

At last, I pounced on her like a hungry tiger,

as she shrieked, giggled and laughed,

tumbling down to the floor with me,

wrapped safe in my arms,

our hearts pounding, faces flush.

"Now you've got me, my dear,"

she said, "What are you going to DO with me?"

And inbetween passionate kisses,

and subtle sighs and moans,

I showed her,

all the while,

thinking what a wonderful gift

her laughter had been to me,

as I hunted my wild sweet,

on an otherwise ordinary day.