The Double Doors

The wood is hard
On the double door
And I mean literally
Pressed up against it
Amongst other things
Despite its cold and withered paint
A spot of warmth is found
Trust me, I would know
I was there, as were others
On far too many occasions
Between the double doors

It was naughty
With a thrill to it all
A tingle on her neck
And sweet air from his lips
Bad behaviour
With an extra kick
Whispers of nothing
The promises she’d wished
Keeping it quiet
In the small dark hall
Between the double doors

A sense of presence
The look of dare
Naughty boy appears
Form his naughty box upstairs
With silent lingering
And a touch of the same
He’s naughty to nice
Leading the way
Her hand in his hand
Off to their secret place
Between the double doors

Sly one could say
Perhaps even cheeky
And knowing it well
She continues discreetly
She is not the first
Nor will she be the last
He will never be tamed
It’s part of his charm
So she takes a deep breath
Puts her feelings to the side
And goes to kiss the rain…
With the naughty boy she had found…
Between the double doors