Hell Hath No Fury Like a Woman Scorned.

a poem by Keith Lumbard, UK

Hours have passed (has been a mighty haul)
In her pursuit (perfecting trim and trig)
Futile as nailing jelly to a wall,
Defined, as slapping lipstick on a pig,
Expectantly, painstakingly, addressed,
Those whorls of lacquered wispy golden fair,
Where fascinators ultimately rest,
Hide rooted still, the silver lurking there,
The signs of crows cosmetically, she skims,
And waxing that which underlines her snout,
Her make-up hides a multitude of sins,
Yet still remains a sorry looking trout,

When time for compliment-aries (forewarned)
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

All for one
@}-------- Porthos
One for all

Keith Lumbard 01st March 2014

I was challenged poetically to write something humorous defaming that of the fairer sex. Being sometimes controversial I have taken up that challenge and put my neck in the noose. I Hope that I offend none and my poem is taken in good spirit.

Should you wish to compose along the same lines in response, I can assure you I have broad shoulders.

To all the ladies fair I Keifos Porthos love you all.

Top Viewed Funny Sonnets Poems & Top Viewed Humorous Poems

Other poems from Keith Lumbard, UK

If you like this poem, post a message below to the poet!


Viewed 2289 times

VoicesNet Likes