Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Donal Mahoney- A Poem

Snapdragons Crackle

Snapdragons crackle
in the air for Maura
and her flowing gait, 

a swagger neither Nora
nor Maureen would ever
let a suitor savor.

Maura knows 
that in her wake
men with scythes

and burlap sacks,
creep like gators,
eyes afire, jaws agape.

Nora and Maureen
can smell these men.
Unlike Maura

and her flowing gait,
Nora and Maureen will smile,
take their time and wait.

The way young women (or mature women) walk has always been intriguing for most men. Before tattoos became an accessory almost as common as earrings, ladies who walked carefully were often quick to criticize ladies who did not. The problem is, some women have no governor to regulate their sway and unseemly admirers can sometimes be a problem.

No comments:

Post a Comment