Pouting

pouting

Pouting
I caught her Monday morn
pouting
about a summer dress
that had a stain on it
she intended to wear
Monday night
to entice my heart.
I caught her Tuesday afternoon
pouting about
having no shoes to wear
that would match her sheer blouse
in an attempt to catch my eyes.
Wednesday she was pouting
over burning dinner
too busy lighting candles
a hint she wanted to melt
in my arms.
Thursday, Friday & Saturday
pout, pout, pout
but come Sunday after church
I heard her say

Oh God.

2 thoughts on “Pouting”

burn baby burn

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