PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Well son-of-a-gun

I finally got it

I guess I saw the light



This pen is cold

This paper too

As so is this snowy night.



I'll set them both

Off to the side

Yep, that's what I'll do



And climb the stairs

To that nice warm bed

And scoot up next to you.



First things first

I gotta shave

And then I'll take a shower



I gotta try

To stay awake

Within this midnight hour.



The chore is done

I'm on the stairs

Anticipations dash



I stop mid-way

As I remember

To put away the hash.



Oh it'll keep

I stop and think

But then no longer toil



I move to put it

In the fridge

So it doesn't spoil.



I lift the pot

And cradle it

As I open up the door





Who's corner swings

And hits the pot

And knocks it to the floor.



There is a crash

And the smooth white floor

Turns a chunky brown



My ear's alert

And t'ord the stairs

It hears you coming down.



You look at me

Your mouth's agape

How could I drop the food?



Then you laugh

Uncontrollably

At your standing, messy nude.



As I stand

I try to strike

A dignifying pose



But it's hard to do

With dripping legs

And a carrot 'tween my toes.



I tell you I will get it

And send you off

To bed



You turn to go

Let out a snicker

With a shaking of your head.



Three quarters of an hour pass

The kitchen's clean

I'm beat



So I take another shower,

A cold one

In defeat.





I dry myself

And lift the pen

My but it does feel warm



One more verse

A while ago

Would have done no harm.



I climb the stairs,

Slink into bed

I am through, That's that!



And then I hear you say, "OH hun,

Did you remember

To put out the cat?"