A Womans Scorn A wise man said a womans scorn is given to her when shes born. She carries it, though under cover, a secret weapon for a lover who dares defy her even once, its no excuse to be a dunce. I have been chosen so it seems, though never in my wildest dreams did I expect this sly attack which was prepared behind my back. You see, to tell the real story, the saga started with a sorry but unbeknownst to me entré, presented as a joyful play. There lived, in cloudy inner city a middle aged and rather pretty and intellectual grandmother who had been searching for another, a better purpose in her life. The task of playing the good wife and caring for rambunctious kids did drive her to consider bids elsewhere in regions of the globe. While sitting in her purple robe, shed dream of knights without a flaw and then, on the TV she saw how history had proven often that free-verse thoughts would help to soften societys ingrained conventions, and slowly ripened her intentions. God, thank thee for the internet, where countless lonely hearts have met. She surfed in all the continents from Adelaide to Arab tents. And found, (she was articulate), a hopeful one who, old but fit was quite intrigued by her Hello, but too naive for any pro. And now, my friends, this poet skips four stanzas (sealed must be my lips) it seems that she did want a toy to be converted to a boy without the right to pick and choose and somewhat big for his own shoes, she needed in her midlife crisis not booze or other neat devices but human flesh in all its glamour, (and may I use the word enamour), so, with her womans intuition consolidated her position. The only fly in this sweet ointment, which led to bitter disappointment was that no man, unless deranged appreciates if an estranged no matter how erotic soul attempts to press him in a role where he must don the leather gear and, kneeling, mumble May I, dear? So, programmed for a premature resounding failure, all the lure collapsed in waves of turbulence, there was the thought of staying friends but that was not at all to be, so now the fly, with glee, broke free, and left the spiders sticky net still wondering why they had met. And silence now descended gladly upon the two, though, rather sadly were days at first, though they prevailed it was quite clear that they had failed an undertaking which was wrong, as only those who, cold and strong will contemplate and carry through since they have nothing else to do. But let me, just for a small second digress from what the target reckoned, a friend of mine is youngster lightning his mothers who is somewhat frightning is wise beyond our wildest dreams, and sees a thing for what it seems her name is, fittingly, Dame Thunder and she did look at this sad blunder perhaps she is the one behind this new attack upon the mind All men have, it is known, a horn to ward off any womans scorn So bring it on, use your resources of darkness and malignant forces a dream that roses will adorn is what I want, not womans scorn. #Herbert Nehrlich
Posted on: Sun, 06 Apr 2014 07:45:37 +0000
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