Monday, June 1, 2020

Consider This





My husband is a guy who snores
And oh, he does it well.
He shatters glass and breaks down doors
The sound’s like hounds from hell.
I loved him dearly when we wed,
(I’d saved myself til then)
Had never let him near my bed
Thus never knew that men
(And OK, maybe women too)
Can snore with such a roar
And belch and grunt and boom and spew
And bark, and ugh, slobb-ore!
He snores with such ferocity
He’s ruined every night
Of sleep. Oh, the velocity
With which this troglodyte
Can blast the air out of his nose
His eyes, his hair and ears
And from his navel and his toes!
I haven’t slept for years!
I know you don’t believe me
I’d doubt this story too!
(He never did deceive me
Nor promise Xanadu.)
The fault I guess is really mine
For keeping from his bed
(Although he’d very oft opine
About my maidenhead
Suggesting that we needn’t tarry
“Start things” in our lives
And sleep as one before we marry
I could not do that rives.)
And so I learned of his loud snores
Soon after we were wed
And oh! Those snores were such tor-chores
Oh, how they stabbed my head!
But as our marriage aged and grew
I found that in this man
There was such kindness, so I knew
That when we both began
Our life as one, and to the end
I’d made the perfect choice
That he and I would always blend
With him I could rejoice.
And I’d eventually solve
The problem of his snores
When I, with quiet, strong resolve
(Once done with all my chores)
Went out to a construction site
And picked my way across
Metal, bricks and Masonite
And asked to see the boss.
He said I could speak with his guys
Who work in endless din
To see what they might well advise.
They listened with a grin
And told me that their own dear wives
Complained of the same stuff
Throughout all of their married lives.
“You bet,” they said. “It’s tough.”
They handed me a tiny box
Said it would do the trick
“Though it’s not really orthodox,”
One of them said, named Nick.
“It saved my marriage, that’s for sure.
“My wife complained I’d break
“Plate glass with only just one snore,
“She spent her nights awake.”
I looked inside the little box
There nestled was my prize
To me more valued than Fort Knox
And tears then filled my eyes.
“Thank you, dear men,” I said and then
I left them to their chores.
Those guys will always be a Ten
For heeding my implores.
That night I slept each hour through
While my dear husband roared
His thunderous blasts, his caw, his moo
(That night I may have snored!)
I truly never heard one sound
I slept in peaceful bliss!
I could have slept the clock around
I’d never slept like this!
The gift those dear guys gave to me?
With pleasant, laughing shrugs?
About which I still shout “Whoopee?!!”
(Construction mens’ earplugs!)
©2020 LC Van Savage
Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.

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