Tag Archives: poem about marriage

Marrying Up

Marrying Up

The hippie that she married was excessively hirsute,
which was her final reason for giving him the boot.
But since her alimony was embarrassingly meager,
perhaps we can forgive her for being oh so eager

to try to find a richer man—a man of good repute
exceedingly well-barbered, who wore a business suit.
She knew that she could find him if she hung out at the Ritz,
so she dug out her old three-inch-heels and donned a bit of glitz.

Adopting her most snobbish air, she hung out at the bar
to try to find this different man who was more up to par.
She knew him when she saw him.  He’d a Rolex on his arm
and she was sure if she exuded her usual class and charm,

she could attract his notice and flirt and joke and tease
until within an hour she had brought him to his knees.
It’s true he came right over and was smitten from the start.
and within an hour or two, she knew they’d never part.

He dined her and he wined her and he smothered her in flowers.
She gloried in her craftiness and her seductive powers.
It was a whirlwind courtship. When they honeymooned in Prague,
she knew her social standing had gone up a cog.

The hotel that they stayed at was the very best.
Anything she wanted appeared at his behest.
Fresh pastries from the kitchen, whisked to them piping hot.
Shops with furs and diamonds. She had to have the lot.

She said, “Dear, never leave me.” He said, “I never will,”
yet the final day at check out, when they handed her the bill,
surprised, she held it out to him, and then she murmured, “Honey?”
as he sprinted for the door, saying, “I thought you had the money!”

 

(Illustration from Pinterest.) The prompt words today were hirsute, eager, alliance and adopt.
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/09/27/rdp-thursday-hirsute/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/09/27/fowc-with-fandango-eager/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/09/27/alliance/
https://dailyaddictions542855004.wordpress.com/2018/09/23/daily-addictions-2018-week-38/adopt

 

Not Prone to Marry

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Not Prone to Marry

I am a happy spinster—a perpetual “Miss.”
I cannot fathom sinking into a passioned kiss.
I am without an anchor. Obligations have I few.
No imperious husband tells me what to do.

I have no need to ferret out the reasons why I’m single.
It’s not for hate of men and I am not loath to mingle.
I simply like my privacy, have no need for a kid.
While others chose to say “I do,” I simply never did.

 

The prompt words today are fathom, anchor, imperious and ferret. Here are the links:

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/09/16/rdp-sunday-fathom/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/09/16/fowc-with-fandango-anchor/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/09/16/imperious/ 
http://www.inlinkz.com/new/view.php?id=797445 ferret

Hidden Treasure

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Hidden Treasure

What we keep hidden from each other
forms the mystery that keeps us coming back for more.
Like the relish that enhances the main course.
Like the dessert at the end of the meal,
not the real nourishment, but rather 
a reward for putting up with the day-to-day
ragtag repetitions, irritations, boredoms
of knowing each other so well.
The loyalties, down to the heart honesties,
those passions held in common, those trials shared
are the meals we feed each other day-by-day.
But what person does not need, as well,
the thrill of the unopened package,
the darkness hidden under the stairs?

 

FOWC’s prompt for the day is Hidden.

Happy Ending

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Happy Ending

He was a follower, a grunt
who married a lass dominant.
She led, he followed in their dance.
He wore an apron, she the pants.
It was a perfect unity
if folks had only let them be;
but, alas, the other blokes
had to make the usual jokes.

They called him pussy-whipped and meek—
berated him as timid, weak—
and so, simply to please his mates,
to end their jeering cruel debates,
he went against his true love’s wishes
and refused to do the dishes.

The facts, there’s no need to imbue.
Both words and dinner plates, they flew.
He could not match her swift invective
of ways in which he was defective,
and so he simply stood and waited
until her fury was abated,
then asked this cyclone he had wed
if she would like to go to bed.

Their skirmish ended in romance.

He shed his apron, she her pants.
A worn-out lover well-behooves
a meeker husband in his moves,
and nothing like a little tiff
to make a timid fellow stiff.
Now that her angst had flared and passed,
he got to be on top, at last.

The prompt today is dominant.

Beating the Bans

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Beating the Bans

If you think that I’ve flunked at being a wife
and been 86’d from a domestic life,
was it the pie crust that I made too tough?
Might I have failed at life in the buff?
Didn’t I kiss right? Did I flub the pressing,
leaving a wrinkle in my husband’s dressing?
Did I speak out too much for my kind?
Not take into account that fellows might mind
if I had a career of my own to take care of,
not feeling it adequate I had a pair of
breasts you could fondle or legs I could wind,
an adequate body, a perky behind?
If I’m not the kind of lass you might marry,
the sort who leaves you rattled and wary:
brash and smart and outspoken and bold,
excellent negotiator, stubborn and cold?
If I am unfit as a humble home’s resident,
perhaps I might make you an excellent president!

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/banned/

Solo Act

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Solo Act 

 A lady from Schenectady,
wishing for autonomy,
said she’d choose lobotomy
before she’d choose monogamy.
Some girls just need to be free
to be whatever they can be.
Not for them the lover’s knee,
or every morning pleasantry
called for when “I” becomes a “we.”
And so they state it blatantly.
They’ll have no other he or she.
They are content to just be “me.”

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/autonomy/