Beside Our Bed
by Ray Fuller
I always want my
love to please,
But woe betide me if I sneeze
When she’s asleep.
When I cannot keep
From release,
And fail to cease
That stentorian venting,
No chance of preventing.
Not once, not twice, not thrice, yet more
That shake the person to the core.
This thought then passes through my head:
Just one more sneeze and I am dead.
Which is why you won’t find any
knives lying around
Beside our bed. |
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