I know you feel no reverence

for my godhood;

not like the golden collie

over there

who shudders with pleasure

at any careless touch.


No, your attentions bode

a lower ambition;

making me aware of your presence

in case I’d forgotten some tidbit

you’d admire.


Still, your velvet hide

soothes my jangled nerves

with warmth and pleasure

as you weave your witch patterns

around my bare legs,

bidding me linger in the twilight.


You know your worth

and greet with high disdain

any suggestion of humility.

Let others bow and cower;

she who wins your favor

is honored indeed!



About dswan2

Poet, author, columnist, lyricist, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, wife of 50 years. Born and raised in America's Heartland
This entry was posted in Humor and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s