House-Maid

The tantalizing housemaid
comes in swinging her waist,
to serve me breakfast.
But it is not the meal
she wants me to eat!
It is not the service she renders!
The frog in me frog-jumped
and my heart fled as a coward
to where I dig with pens
leaving breakfast stranded
as a pool of water in pot-hole
in the middle of a tarmac road.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace