An itch, once scratched may sleep
But will creep
Back.
The flame
Inflames
And we lack
The will
To be still
So tease
And please the inflammation.
Anticipation
Grows
And on dainty toes
Enters, and does prettily sigh,
“Try
One more time,
For to scratch an itch is truly divine”.
We pine for pleasure,
Act on desire, then repent at leisure.
There I was, minding my own business, strolling through the churchyard which lies opposite my flats when a wee small voice intruded into my consciousness,
“Can you see mate?”
I paused my guide dog Trigger waiting patiently at my side,
“Pardon?”
“Can you see?”
With a winning smile I responded,
“Are you stupid?” before continuing on my journey, Trigger leading the way.
K Morris - Poet 