Dislike Mike

Mike’s wife, upon the other hand,Is someone who is really grand,Tries very hard to understand,And to placate his demands.
One day, she thought the time had come,She’d try to please her crabby chum.To make him happy, up, she’d drum,The perfect breakfast. Every crumb.
His least demands, she would regard,She’d maybe catch the man off guard.Some notes, she made upon a card,When he said, “Eggs. One soft, One hard.”
She cooked and stirred, then did present,The food for which her spouse had sent,Thereby, so hoping to prevent,Their usual morning argument.
So carefully, she did arrayHis lovely breakfast on a tray,He frowned, then nodded. Happy day!She finally had got her way!
But all her efforts, he’d discard,When he spoke, the old blowhard,And said (With verve. And disregard),“Dear wife, you boiled the wrong one hard!”
With me, Old Mike’d face no backlashO’er his head, no dishes smash,No screaming and no teeth to gnash.I’d just firmly place him in the trash!
Here, Monday's are for poetry,If, like Delores and Jen-ny,And me. You find that you agree,Then go to visit them and see.

Published on June 12, 2017 07:26
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On the Border
Stories from the Stringam Family ranches from the 1800's through to today.
Stories from the Stringam Family ranches from the 1800's through to today.
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