The Dragon Ring
I'd been courting my Fiona
For a year or two, to date,
We'd been through the lovers' gridlock,
Love, indifference, and hate,
On a good day we'd be soaring,
On a bad day we'd descend
To the pit of constant warring,
Though we'd make up, in the end!
And the making up was endless,
It was better than the best,
We would spend the day exploring
In our less than virgin nest,
And she'd cry for Mother Mary
At that last, and parting thrust,
When she saw my eyes adoring
At the zenith of our lust!
Then the day came when Fiona
Said she needed her own space,
Felt restricted, in a corner,
Had the need to run her race,
I must leave her to the options
That would straighten out her head,
It was that, or dare she say it…
(She would leave that word unsaid!)
But the word was ‘separation',
And we both knew it was true,
And I felt her desperation
In my desperation too,
For the green-eyed god was rising
As her green-eyed goddess fled,
She was calm - how unsurprising!
When she left me there for dead.
I could see her on a Monday
And on Wednesdays, Thursdays too,
But the weekends were forbidden,
That was girls' time, things to do,
So I sat and hugged my chagrin
To my chest, while staying home,
As my rank imagination
Stirred and festered as it roamed!
We would make love on a Monday
And pretend: ‘There's nothing wrong! '
I would peer into her eyes to find
Just where her nights had gone,
But her eyes, they would avoid me
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poem by David Lewis Paget
Added by Poetry Lover
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