Saturday, July 16, 2011

Rime of the Middle-Aged Mariner





My husband took the family
To spend a day beside the sea.
We brought umbrella, towels and spade,
I sat with Kindle in the shade.
The sultry air was still and dense.
The shade offered no recompense.
I listened to the siren’s song
And wandered through the noisy throng.
My charming husband took my hand,
Together waded out from land.
We rushed up hillocks, down in dells
With foaming waves we rose and fell.
We splashed and played in manner grand,
A lovely, weightless waterland.
While bobbing, we were sun-kissed apples,
But I, now blind from sparkling dapples,
Turned to go back to the shore,
Fatigued, refreshed, I sought no more.
My brief and buoyant levity,
Soon rediscovered gravity.
Sunk deep in sand, ah, but the sea,
The sea had other plans for me.
The sea in whose arms I was thrall
Rolled me like a bowling ball
Knocking down some kiddie pins,
Up to the shore ass over chin.
And out again and in twice more
I nearly drowned upon the shore.
And there I sat all inside out,
My nether regions filled with grout.
The slack-jawed stares on children’s faces
Said they'd seen my lady places.
And then my husband ran to me,
And pulled my shorts up past my knees.
With bruised esteem high on a shelf,
I deprecated on myself.
One day, some enterprising rube
Will prob’ly post it on YouTube,
And I shall need a web redemption,
For Daniel Tosh makes no exemptions.

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