Nothing Dear
Few men can claim understanding
Of the workings of a woman’s mind
It’s great if they’re smart and it’s great if they’re fun
And a ‘plus’ is a gorgeous behind
Partner or wife, if the girl in your life
Is sporting a tear in her eye
No man ever knows if she’s happy or sad
But no man dare ever ask why
And yet if a man should just stare into space
An unfocused infinity glare
That distant expressionless look on his face
Means he’s not seeing anything there
But she will dig deep into his rationale
Prodding for what’s in his mind
Alas, ‘Nothing, Dear’ will never suffice
As an answer he struggles to find
***
The thing about men is we think all the time
But sometimes not in a straight line
Incomplete thoughts that will not form a whole
From the light or a very deep hole
Thoughts that - however we try - will not gel
Thoughts twisting, not ringing a bell
Thoughts fit for heaven and then fit for hell
Thoughts of birth or a sullen death knell
And then she will say, ‘What you thinking about?’
We say ‘nothing’ (we can’t work it out)
But when she’s insistent, ‘You ARE thinking something!’
The best we can tell her is ‘Nothing.’
Once, we were happy to juggle these notions
Yet now we must share our emotions
But when we say ‘Nothing,’ it isn’t absurd
When our mind is blank… just take our word
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