Unseemly Predilections

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photo montage + textWherein the Language of Flowers Falls Mute

When he spied her ‘cross the room, June-Judy gave a wink

And he saw those brown eyes of hers, and faster than you’d think,

Was head-o’er-heels, tea-kettle up, had flipped his blond toupee,

And knew June-Judy must be his, and that, without delay–

The tale grows sadder here, alas, for when he crossed the room,

Bouquets in hand, adoring, shy, staggering under bloom

Meant to delight his lady-love, she smiled as if to speak

Affection, too, but when her mouth was opened, with a shriek

He toppled senseless to the floor amid his blasted roses,

Quite dead, our hero, and his blooms, killed by her halitosis.

digital photo montagePark Pastorale

Among the poplars in the park,

a possum paused to peer,

and though it had grown very dark

–it was late in the year

as well as late at evening-time–

the possum saw a bright

white streak pass by under the lime

tree ‘cross the way; the sight

so startled her she had to take

a closer, clearer look,

and wandered over by the lake

right where it met the brook,

gazed left and right and up and down

and saw the streak once more,

at speedy pace, dashing toward town,

along the lake’s broad shore,

and hurried closer at a run

so nothing should be missed,

and at that speed, a snappy one,

caught up–and here’s the twist:

the streak was on a young skunk’s back,

the skunk lad struck with fear,

at Possum’s rush, into attack,

and so stuck up his rear

and flipped his tail, prepared to spray

(look out, folks! Hold your noses!),

aimed at Miss Possum straightaway,

and spritzed the scent of roses!

For, happily, our young skunk swain

had spied this possum lass

and so admired her, he was fain

to skip the poison-gas

and woo her while he had the chance

and serendipity,

and now they dance their wedding-dance,

his possum-love and he.

21 thoughts on “Unseemly Predilections”

    • Jest if you will, but we actually did have a skunk visit outside our house twice in the last week or two (thanks a lot for the evening perfume, indeed!). I checked all around the foundation and property slope the other day, hunting for burrows or hiding-places, and there are none visible, so I suspect our friendly invader lives in the greenbelt/ravine behind us. Can’t do the usual cage-with-catfood catch and release, since I’d surely feed the entire wildlife preserve, not to mention trapping all of the neighborhood cats that patrol this place, so I guess we’ll just have to call detente with Mr. Smelly-pants.

      Thankfully, the halitosis thing hasn’t been quite as much a problem around here . . . or is that the REAL reason Richard went to that conference . . . ? Hmmmm.

      Reply ↓

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