The Caller
Kevin keeps calling
With his camouflaged eyes
San Angelo housed
'Neath West Texas skies;
He's a stranger of the hour
His last name: Blouin-just sings
Four times the bells chime
Hangs up before the last ring;
In the shadows he has called
No words does he speak
Weary of his purpose
More than once-he's not meek;
Our patience is growing thin
Not humbled by his being a pest
Forty-four years old and up to no good?
That would be our best guess;
A word of warning
If you're delibertly pestering us
You don't have a clue whom your dealing with
Because we ARE going to make a big fuss! ! ;
By: Theodora Onken
June 19,2012
poem by Theodora Onken
Added by Poetry Lover
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