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My very unevolved taste in poetry has always snorkeled in the slime covering the floor of literature’s basement — you know, that place where the bawdy limericks dwell. Speaking of which, here’s my favorite:

A young mathematician named Hall

Had a hexahedronical ball

The cube of its weight

Plus his pecker times eight

Is his phone number; give him a call.

Oh, wait a minute!  When my daughters were young I did have a brief but memorable fling with Dr Seuss.  Marvin K Mooney is etched in my gray matter as permanently as — but certainly more pleasantly than — the song “It’s a Small World” (and I’m laughing because now that you’ve read that, it’s going to play in your head – over and over and over again — for the rest of the day) . But just as I started feeling the rhythm, my girls learned to read it themselves and I was once again rhyme-less.

Then I met this week’s guest blogger Jennifer Nigam. Jennifer is one of the talented members of my Write Stuff writers’ group.  As she reads I can’t help but close my eyes, drift off to my happy place and literally just feel her words. She says the same things I say, but in such a melodious and more refined manner.  And, of course, without that barbed bitchiness. I’m going to have to help her sharpen her edge a little. I don’t know who’ll ultimately win, but eventually either she’ll drag me up the stairs to good poetry or I’ll have her writing dirty limericks. 

But today, you’re the big winner!

So while I’m taking a little break to enjoy the charms of my favorite swarthy, salt-and-pepper-haired waiters — you know, the ones who look almost as good going as coming (Ohhhh, Pierre, I love the way your mustache tickles when you kiss my toes) — you are here enjoying my favorite of Jennifer’s poems.

Until I see you next week.



Real women take their time

Real women hold onto their gold

They spend their days leisurely polishing

They spend their nights caressing the metal in their tender grasp

Real women wait until their gold is buffed, warmed and molded to their liking

As radiant as their sun; as smooth as their complexion

Real women take their time

They examine the men who will be given their treasure

A man who decides not to wear it will soon be forgotten

A man who takes it off in a bar will not be around for long

But the man who wears and cherishes her ring,

The man who keeps her gift shining and in her likeness,

Perfect and whole,

That man will live close to her heart forever.


I love it.  Jennifer, thanks so much for letting me share your work.

Have an incredible week, my friends.


About PD Williams

Writer - primarily humorous women's fiction. My secret agenda is to help men become in actuality the visions they think they already are. I point out their many flaws in the kindest, gentlest, most supportive way I know -- gotta protect those fragile male egos -- so we can stop wasting our energy trying to change them. After all, as women, we have more important things to do.

2 responses »

  1. Now that is a real woman. I like.


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