Sunday, April 27, 2014

Poor Werewolf

A wealthy werewolf wearing worsted and a Windsor tie,
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

 

14 comments:

Kerry O'Connor said...

Ha!!

Brave women to outwit a werewolf.

TexWisGirl said...

doesn't like stubble. ha ha!

Helen said...

Oh, how I've missed your poetry - unique FB style! Happy to be back, almost over the incredible jet lag!

hedgewitch said...

Total hoot--you hit on the inherent absurdity of so many W words, yet also make your nice stabby little point with perfect aplomb.

Cloudia said...

Whirlygig whoopies!

Marian said...

haha love this, FB! stubble sucks.

HermanTurnip said...

How emotionally weak the strong usually are. Striking piece!

Karen S. said...

I like the smooth depths of your words.

Kathryn said...

the stubble part made me laugh . . . cool write.

manicddaily said...

Ha! The werewolf should know better than to keep the 5 'o'clock shadow! Very clever. (As always!) Take care, k.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

A woeful tale of stubble....er, trouble. Loved it.

Mama Zen said...

Poor werewolf!

And, oh my God, that button! Honey, you are the sweetest!

grapeling said...

woops. woofing at cats never pays, does it ~

mac said...

Weirdly wonderful words written here.