The Singer , Not the Song
THE SINGER, NOT THE SONG
I don’t like shopping alone;
But with her, it’s a different experience.
Supermarket ? No problem -
Discussions of prices,
Squeezing the pears,
Philosophy of canned beans’ additives,
Jokes about cucumbers.
Even a dress shop?
Yes - to me it’s just dresses, dresses, dresses,
But I love to watch her try
Even if we don’t always buy.
She loves to dance with me:
God knows why - for I’m no dancer.
She’d have better rhythm with
Blitzen or Prancer.
Was your mum’s cooking really that good ?
Possibly not, but it was your mum’s.
Was your dad’s big pocket on a snowy day really that warm ?
No warmer than others I guess, but it was his.
Ever heard Frank Sinatra singing ‘Little Miss Muffet’ ?
Or Elvis singing ‘You’d better watch out, Santa Claus is coming’ ?
It’s the singer…..not the song.
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
