Menagerie. My love who owns my heart

I wrote this 5 years ago, for a dear woman who is always in my thoughts. Take care Berri.
My bookings are full. The beds have been aired, fresh linen, clean windows. My house must be clean.

The floors are shining, all surfaces dust free. The inspector can smell it, any vice in the air….

The pots whistle smoothly, their heat & their bounty. He’s stomach will benefit, a smile rests on his face.

No matter the pickings, satisfaction is near. She knows how to reach him – no chef can compare!

My domestic bliss, none other can see! I smile & I sing & I dance with the tune, my voluptuous curves sway & capture the rhythm. I ache & I bear as the load breaks my tread. I have packed on the bones, what my mate felt was worthy, as the gentry look pleasing that he has that control!

But my heart cannot take what for years was okay! Age is catching up fast, as the cracks start to show. I’m not longer as pleasing, though he desires me still…no more kisses, short lived cuddling! Once it’s over, sleep comes quickly, all I’m left with, the sticky memory, as the snoring wrecks my sleep.

He needs daily all my labour, so he feels like some great man! No more flowers or sweet nothings reappear, though I do still want them still!!!!

When he’s words still used to care, his caressing turned to punish- thrashing harmony to shreds.

Replaced by discord, all he seeks is his own world, under lock & key. He doesn’t see me; though I’m still in his view! He’s irritation sparked by the slightest tremor of the axis, that balances his very being, I am amazed he still comes home!!!!

I watch him as he sleeps, so still, this gentle giant, wouldn’t hurt a fly.


He chastises me, yet! he knows me well. He smiles as he contemplates, I see the answer by the lines on he’s face & know….only too well, the echo of he’s ranting Or The calm that all is well.


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