I've been reading a few Shakesperian sonnets lately and that man new how to write REAL love! I'm not talking Romeo and Julliet (which was more about gang warfare than love in my opinion!) but the sonnets - ah the sonnets! Here is my take on sonnet 141
Oh, and if you have delicate sensibilities and are offended by toilet humor,
skip it.
You Fart In Bed
You fart in bed
Then pull the covers over my head
You leave your socks on the bedroom floor
You NEVER close the bathroom door
You're late for tea and never call
You leave your work boots in the hall
You never get up and settle the baby
When I ask you to go out you shrug and say "maybe"
I ALWAYS put the kids to bed
do the dishes and get us all fed
You frustrate me beyond all reason
especially during the football season
And yet...
There's something.
Something I cannot, dare not, name.
Something that makes me not quite the same
Something that makes me lighter and freer
when watching you kick back with a beer
Eve's curse? Perhaps. Downtrodden? Maybe.
but with you I am a better me
There's something about you I cannot define
But whatever it is, I'm glad it is mine.
And when I am in your arms, in our room
When the house is quiet as the Taj Mahal tomb
When you whisper words of intimacy
And every woman wishes she were me
Then you fart and pull the covers over my head.
Even then, I am glad it is you in my bed.
Just so you know, my husband has NEVER done this to me (I threatened before we were married to bite him if he did). Also he never watches football, often settles the baby and is more than willing to take me out! It is FICTION. But I am sure many married women can relate
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