Home

ABOUT US

Recent Posts

Recent Comments

Categories

POEM ARCHIVE

ONLINE SERVICES

BOOKS

Contact Us

Useful Links

September 27, 2013

 

 

She’ll give me grief,

and deny me food,

for no reason at all,

if she’s in that mood.

 

She’ll read my mind,

and will not flinch,

unless I take a yard,

when she gives an inch.

 

She’ll go berserk,

and lock me out.

She’ll twist her face,

like a dying trout.

 

She’ll rant and rave,

like a woman possessed,

even though my innocence,

I will protest.

 

She’ll string me up,

and whip me hard,

and from her house,

I will be barred.

 

She’ll raise the roof.

She’ll give me hell.

I’ll need the protection

of a padded cell.

 

She’ll send me packing.

She’ll show me the door,

even though I plead,

and say her, I adore.

 

She’ll sit and stew.

and sulk a while.

She’ll avoid eye contact,

in case we smile.

 

She’ll come around in time,

with the releasing of a weight.

That vixen of a woman

keeps me, on the straight.

 

She’ll soften up and melt,

like butter in the sun,

and it’s well worth the wait,

for a hug, from honey bun.

 

 

 

 

.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Post tags:

No Comments »

No comments yet.

RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URL

Leave a comment