TOUCHE

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  • Humor

    TOUCHE
    Who do you think you are
    sauntering up here to me
    wearing that look of superiority
    and that cocky grin?

    Why do you think that I
    would go out with you
    just because all the other girls
    are crazy falling all over themselves?

    What time are you planning to
    come by to pick me up so that
    you can meet my Dad and go
    through the Inquisition?

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    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    gjmichele77’s Poems (11)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    MY KNIGHT: IN DRIPPING ARMOR 3 05/09/2009
    TOUCHE 0 05/09/2009
    THE DEMON 0 05/09/2009
    MIRACLE IN THE FIELD 0 05/09/2009
    MICKI ANN 0 05/09/2009
    ANTICIPATION 0 05/09/2009
    CACOPHONY 2 05/09/2009
    Arabesque -- to my Mother 1 11/16/2008
    The Choice 1 11/16/2008
    D'Affaire Extraordinair
    e    		 2 11/16/2008
    Revitalized 1 11/16/2008
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