Even the giants of the ocean must come up to find air.
As the bell sounds and each of us is off to a new table,
it is another indication of the extent of our sanity.
Memories like this reveal the boy within the man,
enough so you can handle caring for a pup—
a tight knot in her cushy denim bed just a yard away.
Those are traits she got from you, and certainly not me—
a small-town landlocked jungle girl.
But if you lay off my breakfast, I’ll cook you your own waffle!
I guess I’ll go eat worms.
(If he’s the one I married, you can bet that he can buy them,)
By the time I’m twenty, I’ll grow out of it,
our break mended by a solid golden band,
and we can dine on tunafish straight out of a can!!!
Little foibles seen in review.
And though our story is not over,
for now this is “The End!”
For dVerse Poets, we were to take the last lines of twelve of our poems and to create a poem out of them. Yes, mine is a “bit” strange, but then so were all of the poems I took them from. Blame it on the prompt words. I always do.