There was once a lady in
my childhood library –
with posture quite great
but her arms very hairy..
She would “shush” and “shoo”
when we made too much noise –
And always question “Who?”
or “Which one of you boys?”
“could make such a ruckus
amidst such fine poise?”
“While others are reading
the news or Tolstoy?”
“Me,” said I, always quite brave,
to lady with glasses and rickety cane…
For boys don’t simply “shush” or “shoo” on command,
While there are Indians or Cowboys to chase across land,
or pirate ships a’sea and sailing for loot –
or barrels of monkeys causing such hoot!
or a desperate search for a big white whale –
or little Tom Sawyer telling such tales!
or Gulliver tied by tiny little men –
or Cyclops chasing Ulysses again…
Why did dear Miss fail to see –
the wondrous things of great mystery?
Odd was that little boy in me so very long ago –
who wanted to fight dragons and slice off their toes…
But now grown I can look back at we – and find
the virtue of silence that dear Miss did see.
For I don’t mind the rare picnic when ants come to play –
or the Mayor’s prized parade when it rains all day.
I don’t mind the canoe when you flip it over,
nor even when you win at the game of red rover…
But I must stop here, lover, and just tell you this
and I don’t mean to harm or cause you to hiss…
It’s fitting perhaps that it’s when our hearts are near –
and when our love has grown to be just this dear…
But I find it quite odd, and in deed quite complex –
that you should find it so necessary to talk during sex.
It’s the one time of day when my mind is turned off –
and my body turned on by your delectable stuff!
Please understand that in the fray,
it’s not really you I see –
for when you speak during the lay –
I see ol’ Miss shushing thee…
So what ever dragons you’re chasing my pet,
I’ll asks you to do it very quietly.
for if dear Miss ends up in our bed –
it’ll ruin my childhood library….
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© 2015 John Allen Richter
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johnallenrichter 
February 14th, 2015 at 9:05 pm
🙂
February 17th, 2015 at 6:33 pm
Nicely done
February 18th, 2015 at 9:40 pm
looks like you had some fun with this… if you left out the end (quite a surprise)… it’d make a great kid’s read
February 19th, 2015 at 3:16 am
Yes… I often struggle with that – the idea of being a childs poet like James Whitcomb Riley – or being true to my own inner self – like ee cummings… its certainly a fateful decision, I know, but also think remaining faithful to ones own spirit so over rides the vanity of wanting ones poetry to be read by millions. As Sylvia Plath once said “I don’t write poetry because I want others to read it. But it sure is nice when they do.”