Daily missive for Wednesday the 21st of September.

“Fornication

Such an old-fashioned word

Have you come across it?

A time of hairpins and lace doilies

Women in scarves

Men in spats with wide-brimmed hats,

Afternoon tea with scones

False bonhomme, sobriquets and epithets,

Drinking Port wine with cheese

Fat men in starched collars smoking cigars as we women

Gathered together in the parlour to write our manifesto.”

I could feel the flush on my cheeks.

This was not the afternoon tea conversation I had expected.

“Something about the word fornication doesn’t sit right

It takes too much effort to pronounce

As complicated as unbuttoning

Several layers of clothing

Spoiling the spontaneity of the act.

I don’t know why I mention it

As to tell you the truth I have little memory

Of pleasure for its own sake

Duty bound to lie down

And think of England.”

In all my life

And almost choked on a cucumber sandwich

She didn’t seem to notice

“I have spent too many years making everybody

Feel happy

It is my turn now but I lack the energy

So I wait here

A widowed spider

Sitting in a corner of my web

Just waiting for a juicy fly

To get itself stuck

Before I pounce.

Not that you need to worry, you are not the fly I seek

Much too young and tender

And in any event, the will to express

Myself is not equalled by a capacity

To unlock its potential.

However, it is my guess that you did not come here to fornicate

With your Aunt Jane

Which in many ways, whatever else, is a crying shame

But I digress,

If I can’t express myself freely at my time of life

When can I

And fornication seems a good place to start

Before I forget what it entails.

Oh dear boy, don’t rush off I didn’t mean to cause offence

Or embarrassment

I am an old lady

What harm can I do

When I struggle to unbutton my own blouse without assistance

Many the time

I fall down on the bed fully clothed..ahh

What bliss.

Come…give your dear old aunt a kiss”