At work I received a text
With allusions to what was to happen next.
The woman I dearly love,
Whose body fits mine like a hand in a glove,
Was beckoning me to come.
My heart beat wildly. My lips began to hum.
She said, “Come to me at seven eleven,
I’ll let you taste of heaven.”
The workday done, I hurried to meet her, thrilled,
And she my longing fulfilled.
She stirred from slumber to start again at dawn—
Oh, my wife still turns me on!
Copyright © 2018 Abigail Gronway – All Rights Reserved
A Seven-Eleven Couplet. This form was chosen for today in honor of the day, July 11.
a rhyming two-line stanzaic form in which each line has either seven or eleven syllables, at the discretion of the poet. When combined to form a longer poem, lines 6 and 11 (when present) are always eleven syllables long.