Irony of Deception
The clock chimed eleven as she tiptoed through the hall
Her long gown flowing with movement due to passing breeze
Her steps downstairs were quiet and ever so careful
As she opened the door, sneaking out with great ease
Her husband was fast asleep in the second floor suite
She abhorred his very presence, his body, his ways
She’s been sneaking out for what seems two months now
Into the evening hours, under the moonlight, to play
The man she meets is one of certain questionable virtue
She fears him, but is attracted to his outward charm
Their passion plays out each evening so deceitfully
Though, her husband knows no reason to be alarmed
He sleeps, or so she thinks, when she ventures out each eve
Without her knowing, another takes her place in their bed
The neighbor’s wife has loved him for nearly a year now
As to his arms all her needs and desires are being fed
Upon her return, again, he pretends to be sleeping
She has her lover, a secret she thinks, and he has his
Pulling the blanket to her chin and cozying up next to him
She leans to his face and upon his cheek, gives a kiss
They’ll continue this life as happiness is theirs
A marriage of comfort, with their loves on the side
He, knowing of hers, but she not knowing at all
Stays quiet, keeping peace, and from her, his secret hides
Copyright © Michael Degenhardt | Year Posted 2008
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