What is she, to me, we wonder
Not much more, than lore, or blunder?

No for see, like sea, she is wonder
It ‘twas me, not we, the comer with thunder.

Now is for now, or more never
Could come of young love, if true love, ever.

It is for her knowledge, I noted that,
She will live with, or without, like a cat.

She waivers forever in my thoughts
Of how I should have, myself brought

Into her eyes, and life, and dreams,
With wild lucidity, fantasy, schemes.

She is the one I wish to know me
The one inside mind, body, being.

by Christopher Fladd

Comments (12)

Boys, be straight turn off the TV don't sit giggling foolishly listen to your big mama go do your homework or i will whip your black ass and you will plead and cry - mama, please, no mama...
With a nice style the poet has put his point hard. Humorous.Thanks for sharing.
Beautiful poem with humor huntingly depicted. Thanks and congratulations for POD.
Nicely put forth. A sensible way to correct a wrong perception. Thanks, Lucille.
I feel it was so thoughtful and humor of her to give children this admonition........very well crafted.......thanks for sharing
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