The Nun

If there’s someone for everyone,
As often I’ve heard said,
Then mine’s a contemplative nun,
With bowed, close-shaven head.

She wanders through the world alone,
With begging bowl and staff,
And, though she’s never heard to moan,
I know she likes to laugh.

It isn’t that I need romance
Or crave her body’s heat,
But, if she gave me half a chance,
I’d lie down at her feet.

And, when she turned her eyes on me,
I’d feel as if she’d set me free.

Photo by Alexander Krivitskiy on Unsplash

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *