~ Wotta Mess? ~

~ Wotta Mess? ~

Mind you,

She’d never whine

A regaling, richly scarlet nubile,

Singing balmy hymns,

In husky mermaid voice,

To her thalassic countrymen!

Façade real, regal, a ripened tomato,

Busiest in a subconscious, subfuscous temp,

Caught in between those lousily eager fingers,

When bred in uncertainty, is squashed,

It chuckles,

Waggles,

Squiggles,

Trickles,

But still wouldn’t whine,

Just humming and weaving songs of hope into drones of despair …

Dripping seedy, murky red,

To dapple your satin white frock or tweed cream coat,

Before giving up on its fine, seamless, delicate skin,

And, leaving you into an amusing but precisely precious mess!

‘Ou! Wotta mess!’ now you whine!

Ah dear! Life is just like that …