A Sorry Tale Of-The Flight Of A Needle-Phobic Poem by Laurie hill
A Sorry Tale Of-The Flight Of A Needle-Phobic
From hospital bed, I quietly slipped
determined and intent,
a quick look left, - a quick look right,
I sprinted to the gents.
my eyes, scanned, the corridor
ears set at fever pitch,
like radar on a high alert,
i was hiding from the witch
this was no lady of the lamp,
more a lady of the night,
stocking clad muscles rippling,
my god that girl could fight.
I heard her in the distance,
like a far off baying hound,
i made a break for freedom,
praying i would not be found,
then i spied her cronies,
standing guard at either door,
i backed away, retreated,
and slipped on polished floor
quick as a flash, back on my feet,
I powerwalked away,
Two nurses were in hot pursuit,
closing quickly on their prey
as i turned the corner,
I ducked into a room,
in haste I failed to notice,
she was waiting in the gloom,
she fixed me with her evil eye,
transfixed me with her stare,
I realized, just like a fool,
I'd fell into their snare,
they grabbed my arms and grabbed my legs,
threw me face down on a bed,
my face squashed deep in mattress,
As one sat, upon me 'ead,
The blunt javelin was lofted,
then stabbed into a cheek,
with face immersed in mattress,
I could barely raise a squeak
Off they strolled with laughter,
Leaving me to slowly limp,
again they were the victors,
in the hunting of the wimp: !
A wonderful tale of needilitis lol, made me laugh, it is quite common to be afraid of needles, great write Laurie, 10 Lynda xx
Another good one. So refreshing from the love mush found on this site. Adeline
The humorous Laurie is every bit as entertaining as the romantic Laurie. I would not mind having the whole collection, truly..(smile)
Haha! A sharp piece of wit. Remember, Jesus says to turn the other cheek.. -chuck
What more can I say in the face of such witty and wily poetic craft except well done-and hard luck!
This is an unexpected change of tone and, for me, illumines the futility of the attempted flight and the reality of the unescapable. my face squashed deep in mattress, As one sat, upon me 'ead, The blunt javelin was lofted, then stabbed into a cheek, with face immersed in mattress,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 10:40:27 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I love it! Absolutely and completely. Who wouldn't? The rhyme lets it romp along and I did with you, but I didn't slip like you. That would be foolish as I wouldn't want to be captive of such Tomfoolery. This had made my day! Absolutely wonderful work and more of it please! Karin Anderson