by Lois Ann Horowitz
as set to music by Leonard Lehrman
(Naked Verses, op. 147 no. 1)
Copyright 2001

I see you're nude, and so am I.
It feels so good: my pores breathe free.
But others may be asking, why?
While breezes play their games with me.

No sandy fabric chafes my skin,
No bands restrict my movement here;
I'm closer to my origin,
And greet the world without veneer.

Why should I want to separate
My being from the world around?
Indeed, I never hesitate
To drop my garments on the ground

And face the sea as I was born,
With nothing left to mask or hide.
I'm naked as a peppercorn;
Clothed naturally, I meet the tide.

I slide into a the quiet sea,
Lie back, and let the clouds drift by;
I'd gladly float here endlessly;
The calm engulfs me like a sigh.

by Lois Ann Horowitz
as set to music by Leonard Lehrman
(Naked Verses, op. 147 no. 5)
Copyright 2001

I can't imagine - though I try -
the answer to the question, "Why
would anyone who had the choice
and any independent voice
still choose to wear a suit to swim?"
The consequences are so grim,
as I found out just recently
when this offense was forced on me!

I had to go to someone's house
(along with my unwilling spouse).
The invitation said, to all:
"We have a pool; you'll have a ball!"

The trouble was, we had to go
(it was a family thing, you know)
So, though we didn't give two hoots,
we set about to find our suits.

I found mine in a bottom drawer
where it had been ten years, or more;
I pulled it out and tried it on -
now, what a silly thing to don!

It squeezed my flesh and gave me lumps
where formerly I'd had no bumps,
accentuated attributes
not even seen without a suit!

And yet, the worst was still to come:
I handled it with great aplomb.
The party day arrived, quite hot;
I figured I'd submerge - why not?

That suit felt horrid, squishy, too;
when I got out, it stuck like glue!
I socialized a bit, (how sweet!)
then made a quiet, quick retreat.

I changed into my dry clothes fast
so glad that this ordeal had passed!
But sadly, when I reappeared
I heard the question that I feared:

"The hot tub's warm; why don't you change?"
(I find this concept very strange:
why would I want to take a bath
with clothing on to block the path

of water getting to my skin -
a weird society we're in!)
I sweetly smiled, but shook my head -
I'll bet, these folks wear clothes to bed!

premiered by Helene Williams Lenox, Mass. 8/23/01