wondered whether I'd witnessed a wench -- his wife.
I said, she whispered to me that she can't stand stubble--
which, for you, I think, means trouble.
On Wednesday last, she wandered by and slept
with me; and when the werewolf heard -- that worthy wept.
_____
for Marian's letter W prompt at Toads
Ha!!
ReplyDeleteBrave women to outwit a werewolf.
doesn't like stubble. ha ha!
ReplyDeleteOh, how I've missed your poetry - unique FB style! Happy to be back, almost over the incredible jet lag!
ReplyDeleteTotal hoot--you hit on the inherent absurdity of so many W words, yet also make your nice stabby little point with perfect aplomb.
ReplyDeleteWhirlygig whoopies!
ReplyDeletehaha love this, FB! stubble sucks.
ReplyDeleteHow emotionally weak the strong usually are. Striking piece!
ReplyDeleteI like the smooth depths of your words.
ReplyDeletethe stubble part made me laugh . . . cool write.
ReplyDeleteHa! The werewolf should know better than to keep the 5 'o'clock shadow! Very clever. (As always!) Take care, k.
ReplyDeleteA woeful tale of stubble....er, trouble. Loved it.
ReplyDeletePoor werewolf!
ReplyDeleteAnd, oh my God, that button! Honey, you are the sweetest!
woops. woofing at cats never pays, does it ~
ReplyDeleteWeirdly wonderful words written here.
ReplyDelete