And so it was, four score and seven years ago (okay, maybe it was just ten days ago; I get confused), that I proffered up another picturesque writing-prompt. During the rousing commentary interplay that ensued, the deliciously-provocative Fiery composed a lovely poetic piece that encapsulated both the prompt and our years-long inability to make bang-bang, due to our variant sexual natures. I found her words quite fetching, and I was compelled to share them. Enjoy.
The Heartbreak Swing
What happened here
Upon this swing?
Quite an ugly thing
Though swingers (😆) all pulled through, alive
Some memories it did revive
And after several cocktails they
Decided they would spend the day
A-singing and a-swinging there
They shunned the ghosts of pasts unfair
And like young lovers, kissed a song
And did some naughty things (so wrong)
And old rekindled flames did rest
Upon that swing’s unerring breast
Their antics sprained a limb or two
(‘Cause that’s what sexy-time can do)
And I in turn, my sweet behind
I rested on that swing in kind
And wrote a little, sensual rhyme
(And thought, I’ll wear him down in time! )
And Hemingway, he may have sat
A glass of scotch beneath his hat
He made a pass at me, I swear
I said, just keep your paws right THERE
The rocks were…hard
They said, ‘sup girl?
You want a bit of Rock n Twirl?
And I was like…that makes no sense
(The swing’s integrity now tense.)
And as for arboreal matters…
Left the poor sweet swing in tatters
But what last words ‘pon swing were spoke?
(As Fiery’s grammar slowly broke…)
They were: “Oh B…let’s steal a kiss, one tiny smooch won’t go amiss!”
And thus the swing was torn apart
As SOMEONE broke poor Fiery’s heart
He never kissed this Lady Bard 😭
A swing and miss
In his backyard.
Note to those who are unfamiliar with the “Almost Wordless Wednesday” writing prompts here at Bonnywood: Feel free to participate in any of the previous wordplay invitations, as they are open-ended due to the fact that I don’t have much to do in my life. Simply enter “wordless” in the search box to find a trove of past prompts.
My high school “girlfriend” who insisted that I escort her to the senior prom: “Oh. I think I understand everything now.”
Me: “Not really.”
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