I’ve been playing with words and patterns again. This one is all over the place and no title, or picture, seems to fit. Ergo, I bring you ‘Poopy Face’
You’re appealing to the child in me;
your sense of nonsense ability
makes my sides ache.
Your passion feeds the whore in me;
incensed with full intensity,
makes the earth quake.
The feelings of the woman in me
sense incessant infidelity;
make my heart break.
Maybe I do need some time to myself
Said the elf as he stood next to me
Some time apart would surely kick start
The love he once felt for me
I packed his bags and opened the door
I beckoned for him to leave
For a day or so, no more, I said
And I wiped my eyes on my sleeve
I had time to think for a very short while
And I missed his little face
I knew I’d lost him forever
He was in his happy place
It’s for the best, I tell myself
Yet the pain in my heart disagrees
I wish him well, wherever he goes
I had to set him free
There’s a part of his life I can never share
A secret place deep inside
Where I’m not invited, nor never will be
For another (or more) there reside
Be well, little elf, think of me oft
The short time we spent together
Felt so right, but was not meant to be
So long, my sweet, 4FR
Jane Sandford 