The Chair

One day you confided to me
That if you ever married again,
The first thing you would do after the wedding
Is take your bride to the back room in the church
Find a chair and sit down
Then bend her over your knee
And show her who was boss, right from the start
As a strong-willed woman who longs to be led by an even stronger man
This made me wild with anticipation—

But a lump came in my throat
The day I walked in the back room and saw The Chair
That suddenly appeared from who knows where—
For weeks you threatened to take me there
I misbehaved on purpose
Daring to call your bluff
And it worked…


Copyright © 2018 Abigail Gronway – All Rights Reserved

Hallowed Reunion

Eagerly he came to her as soon as she arrived.
A knock.
An open door.
And two pairs of longing eyes at once grew misty.
The warmth in their long embrace
Erased both winter winds and
The months and miles of separation.

Arm in arm they sat
And talked freely of their past, present,
And future….
When words were spent,
Four wandering hands turned up the heat—
But only so far.
Such passion never met with such restraint!
For the time had not yet come to let the fire burn hot.
Their friendship still needs time to grow
Apart from passion’s glow.
Would anyone believe the scene,
If perchance they could have seen
These two dear friends so much in love
Yet willing to defer their pleasure
To please their loving Father?

“Some things are more important than the moment we are living in.”
Life has taught these unwed soul mates
How to love
And how to wait….
Waiting is the hallmark of their friendship.

“There is a fire.
Let’s be careful not to let it burn too bright.”
With one more hug he quickly said good night.

Copyright © 2018 Abigail Gronway – All Rights Reserved

Also shared at dVerse Poet’s Pub ~ Open Link Night

Poured Out

As water poured out on the ground
To be soaked up in desert sand
What passion that they might have fanned
Conceived such sacrifice profound
For purity was love’s demand.

And did not think one drop to spare
To satiate carnality
With one ounce of impurity
Before the bed was theirs to share.
When wed they found felicity.

Continue reading “Poured Out”