The Keats and Shelley House


We are sitting on the Spanish Steps

Waiting for the museum to open

It is slightly cool at present

Although the sun is warming the air

You are reading a small poetry book

Twenty Poems about Trees

With a light smile on your lips

I ask the reason for your humour

You whisper into my sensitive ear

That you have decided not to wear underwear

And are quite naked under your cotton dress




Erotic Poems of Summer