By Kath Fraser, UK
I love you, Mrs. Acorn. Would your husband mind
if I kissed you under the autumn sun,
if my brown-leaf guilty passion made you blind
to his manly charms and fun?
I want you, Mrs. Acorn. Do you think you'll come
to see my tangle, windswept desires,
and visit me in my everchanging house of some
vision of winter's fires?
I am serious, Mrs. Acorn, do you hear?
For get your family and other ties,
Come with me to where there is no fear,
Where we'll find summer butterflies.
I am serious, Mrs. Acorn, are you deaf?
*I now realize, with the raising of general awareness of the politics around
disabilities since I wrote the poem in 1969, that the last line may sound offensive to women who are hard of hearing. For this I apologize. Kath Fraser