Poetry2

Website created and maintained
by Donna Sheehy

Arsenic takes the cake!

hile residing in a posh seaside chalet,
an old lady who had retired from ballet,
took her trusty knife blade,
to her husband and filleted
his tongue and tossed it into the bay.

You may think she acted in great haste,
but this man tried to offer her cake laced
with an almond arsenic flair
and the lady became aware
so cut off his tongue for the fish to taste.

Now, you are probably wondering why
and what provoked this gentle guy
to bring harm to this lady
who doesn’t seem so shady
but to explain it, I’ll give it a try.

You see, they’ve been married 60 years
he’s endured nagging, scolding and tears
but he has learned to cope
not a word, with little hope
but gets news which beings forth great fear.

Her doctor called him earlier that day
as he listened, the old man turned grey
the words he did dread
she is to live to be a hundred
and no more could he live this way.

So, he purchased her favorite white cake
sprinkled atop with a very shaky shake
so tempting and so sweet
to give her this arsenic treat
while he grinned with a smile that was fake.

She examined this gift that he bought
and said, “Oh dear, it’s rich, I ought not.”
but he shouted, “Just eat…
the cake isn’t that sweet!”
So, off to the kitchen, while she thought.

Returning with plates and a sharp cleaver
he sits straight up like a golden retriever
eagerly holds his hands out
and excitedly shuffles about
sweating like he has scarlet fever.

The old lady began cutting each slice
slowly she cut them each very precise
he reached for his plate
urging her not to hesitate
eager to see at work his arsenic guise.

To get her to eat her cake quicker
he held a bite up with a snicker
stuck out his tongue
and out she swung
cutting it off and here is the kicker…

Until that day, he rarely ever spoke
nor a gift or a help with her cloak
so, in an instant she knew
this event had gone askew
so, turned the tables on this sick joke.

Many years have long since past
he is sure that her scolding will last
yet, never utters a word
for he would not be heard
since his tongue was cut off so fast.

Dire-ections

ff to the big city
we both decide to go,
excited for shopping
and taking in a show.

Turn right at the light
left at the red sign,
just two short blocks more
easy directions to find.

Two hours later it seems
we must have missed our turn,
no map to help guide
and it’s a bathroom I now yearn.

Just another block more
with people at each curve,
please ask for directions
a simple answer I deserve.

But as we begin our approach
you step on the gas,
you’ve spotted a clue
onward we go, but – alas.

We are now miles away
where we should have been,
and my bladder is crying
with no bathroom to be seen.

I am no longer as happy
and pray to make haste,
not a moment can I wait
not a second to waste.

You’re certainty is declining
as you spot another clue,
following an imaginary trail
lost, yet you know, I knew.

But you sprang into action
as you saw me wince in pain,
and stopped for directions
as my moans became insane.

In a moment we were headed
where we needed to be,
as I took to the bathroom
while you waited for me.

I returned to the car
with a stare for the wise,
to see held up in your hands
it was a map – King Size.

My Poetry Page 2

Life’s Fondue

entered on the table
is a chocolate fondue
lots of yummy choices
yet, a few are taboo.

Strawberries touch our lips
dripping sweet cocoa cream,
like endearing words to others
building a friendship supreme.

Pineapple slightly dipped
is a pleasure to share,
like a tender arm around you
to show someone you care.

Pound cake is soft and sweet
but can easily fall apart,
like a lover’s brittle words
can tear another’s heart.

Brownie squares on your fork
and each dipped deeply twice,
can be a strong reminder
of how we should give advice.

Sour grapes perfectly round
bitter inside, but still appealing,
are like hidden deceptions created
one bite unveils all we’re concealing.

So when you plunge deeply
into you another’s fondue,
there are often bitter memories
and hidden treasures to pursue.

Just remember the sweetest things
can turn bitter or go sour,
it’s the choices you make
for only you hold the power.

You can chose not to partake
for fear of life’s bitter ride,
but the sweetest part of life
may possibly be denied.

Trick or Treat (Kyrielle)

              he full moon glows and mystifies
            A night when monsters soon arise
To the door for sweets to obtain
Where’s more candy, this is insane!

Ghouls and a goblin all pint-size
Dracula, pumpkins oversize
Each with a bag and smiles in vain
Where’s more candy, this is insane!

Open the door to my surprise
Ten more children each in disguise
Reese’s, bubble gum, Heresy’s plain
Where’s more candy, this is insane!

Emptied bowl, myself I chastise
this crisis will be my demise
My excuses will be inane
Where’s more candy, this is insane!

“Trick or treat” and what it implies
Will they get, I’m out of supplies?
I franticly search, what a pain!
Where’s more candy, this is insane!

I had an answer soon arise
Grabbed my coin jar for them a prize
Refilled my bowl with no restrain
Where’s more candy, this is insane!

Without telling any small lies
Each child is happy at goodbyes,
Fear rose for this ghoulish campaign
Where’s more candy, this is insane!

So, on Hollow’s Eve, I’d advise
Stock up on sweets or realize
Without sweets you’ll hear in your brain
Where’s more candy, this is insane!

Page 3 of Poetry

Page 1 of Poetry