| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
|
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Holiday >> ID #790891 |
| |||||||||||||
|
** #790217 Not An Image **
I've always been quite picky When it comes to hanging lights. The wife offers to help me, But I prefer it done just right. Each year I have a vision Of the yuel masterpiece to create, It is purely my decision, I don't need help from my dear mate. So this year I was all confident, Gathered ladder and the lights, Got up high and noticed lint, Upon my work jeans nice and tight. Went to brush it off directly, (I'm a neat guy don't you know), Next I knew my foot slipped swiftly, From upside down I swung - oh no! So I cried "sweet wife please help me!" As I dangled in the breeze. "You're kidding", she replied with glee, "Do-it-himself must surely tease" I won't tell you how it ended, Just say I hung and humbled for a while. The brick wall I quite befriended As my wife stood there and smiled.
© Copyright 2003 Horsewoman (UN: slterrel at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
Horsewoman has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |