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Poetry News Post #4141

Squido

Written by: Bluef Shayan'Kor, the Somnolent Wytch
Date: Tuesday, September 25th, 2012
Addressed to: Disciple Mystara Innagari, of the First Order


My broom is for sweeping
in circles, no doubt,
the ritual markings
on the floor all about.

Kitchens aren't all bad though,
and while I do enjoy
a cup of fish head stew,
I think cooking's a ploy!

It's the way to a man's heart,
the old adages say.
But if you ask me, you'll
just get a fat husband that way.

Well then, my peach,
with skin so supple
I won't poke holes in you,
not even a couple!

But permit me to nibble
on your freshly donned wig.
I can't help myself.
I loved roasted pig!

The way the tail curls
around your forehead,
and the color of the bacon!
You can really pull off red!

Some friends share sandwiches
but we exchange barbs.
Not unlike the fishermen
who reeled in your garb.

That dress is far too slinky.
Its low neckline unflattering.
If I didn't know better,
I'd swear you were working for Paphian!

Now, let's have a girls night.
We'll meet up for drinks.
I'll brush out your hair,
we'll work out our kinks.



Penned by my hand on the 6th of Daedalan, in the year 607 AF.


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