Maybe I love you too much!
I love the sight and sound of you
I love the taste and touch
I love the scent of you
And the movement
My senses are swamped by you
And I am undone.
But what of the male stereotype?
The sexual dominance?
How is it that my male chauvinist pig
Is despatched with a squeal instead of an Oink
And, at the crucial moment,
I am swamped by a tide of tenderness
Tossed willy nilly on the shore of broken dreams.
Unmanned by the poignancy of Caring.
Forgive me, my love
But when you should be my lover
You seem to be my baby
To be held
To be nurtured and protected
Protected against me – the aggressor
I am undone.
The problem is mine
But if you will be patient, my darling,
And trust in my love,
We will attain the heights of ecstasy
And, hand in hand
Wander the groves of Paradise
H. StV.Beechey 1954