But he knew how to reel the women in with a friends poem, waxed lyrical and before he knew it each and every one of them came home
The poetry king
Did he sing? Hell no, just read it aloud, went with the all too literary flow
I met his wife who mentioned his wicked way, how his past endeavours were hooked, reeled in
Left, right and centre
She hadn’t a clue, didn’t stop to think, notice, as much as admit to the chink in her own armour
Sure wasn’t she standing alongside him right now, this poetic charmer
His biggest catch by far, the pair of them smiled hard, hopped in their car and headed on home to as life less ordinary
Quite extraordinary
Then I met a man with a slighter than slight lisp, ill-equipped when it came to the ways of a connoisseur, a fine and cheap bottle of wine from LIDL, a colour that matched the sky
A poetic drinker? Not so much, just another soul unaware of the chink
Funny though, certainly makes you think