Boaz And Ruth Poem by David McLansky

As I twist and writhe and groan
As my spasms squeeze out moans,
As I kick wildly in my chair,
You ask me if I feel despair?
I answer readily enough
As I cross my legs trying not to buck,
'My disease has brought me lovely you,
Small penance for a love that's true;
For you are Nature's kindest being,
Brave and loyal, how strange it seems;
This may sound to you quite odd,
But I think of you as one from God;
My disease is only God's excuse
To send to Boaz lovely Ruth
As he slept on his sacks of grain,
This kind young girl eased him of pain.