Forty-year old men have grace unseen
 in younger men, however fine.
 Their depth of voice and solid stance shivers my spine. 
 With shoulders for children and eyes for business, 
 tortoise shell glasses for slight correction,
 they give and also take direction.

 Aware that stamina won’t trump skill
 they accept the limits of their will.
 They’re fathers, lovers, friends of substance
 with minds like rooms, ideas abundant
 neither peace nor conflict rocks their stride. 
 They step out boldly or move aside.

 I could watch, enjoy them by the hour,
 those thickened backs and thighs of power.
 I love their jaws with new grown stubble
 their easy way approaching trouble. 
 I sigh remembering a lover - forty years 
 in the making - one afternoon in the taking.


40 year olds are delicious