I Think of Life With An Elegant Man

I think of life with an elegant man. I see a man whose hands are silk to me. He's stunning in a suit (well-groomed is he). He loves to read and maybe plays Chopin. He whisks me off to Paris or Milan. His dwelling has divans and a nice settee. We meet the afternoons for chat and tea, then ride inside a chauffeured black sedan. Such a man a mystery shall remain. For me - champagne to my accustomed beer. I steered toward one whose words and deeds are plain. He has no care for things that I revere. For art and culture my man has disdain. He's strong and bronzed, though, and his heart's sincere. July 31, 2021 For Chantelle Anne Cooke's Anything You Want - Must Be New Poem Contest