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Old Faithful

No, not a geyser,
Not a woman,
Old faithful sits
Patiently in my kitchen,
Awaiting my need for her

Old faithful is an organ,
Rich velvety tones
Growls when I ask her
Or spits, or even moans...

What a companion
She does make
No need for deception,
No room for fake...

She's gotten me through,
Many a rough time
She asks no questions
She's guilty of no crime

Her teeth, bared...
Ready to rock
She needs no food,
She reads no clock

She takes me away
On many a mystic trip
As we soar together
Joined at the hip

So keep your guitars,
Your trumpets, your bass
This girl is mine,
Smiling toothy face.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2008




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Date: 2/1/2012 6:01:00 AM
Still missing you so much Tom. Love, Carol
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Date: 7/7/2009 6:30:00 PM
Interesting poem.
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