Friday, April 3, 2015

The Good Girl

it percolates -small
discrete bubbles
bouncing from toes
to eyes locked on
lips closing in –
it percolates – tickling
tantalization straining
with each fizzing corpuscled
yes to form tongue, toothed
voice into a rounded – “No.”

Cookie Lies

It lies in wait
Yes “lies” tis true
That cookie high above
Calling to you
“Come!” it whispers
“Come” it does shout
They’ll never know
They’re not about
And you waver standing there
Hand upon the runged back chair
Sun just rising – true mother might never learn
She sleeps with a soft smile as you teeter-turn
Father on his back arm about her flung in slumber tight
They sleep gentle trusting you, their son,to do what’s right

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