Confused by it, her mind in overdrive,
she quickly twirled it to its underside,
and what she saw on this black dead of night
gnawed at her soul, and she her faith belied
prayed to her god her dread if to *asswage,
in dearest hope this night her soul be saved
This strange thing was as if a man unmade,
grotesque - a swirling vortex for a face.
Yet in her heart lust for it she did nurse,
she would forsake her god herself unchurch.
For in her sad mind nothing could be worse
than an empty bed and she her lips did purse.
But he (evil fiend) would not kiss her back
saying: You’re not my type! And that was that!
* Obsolete form of assuage
Tony at dVerse has us writing bouts-rimés and the words he offers us are: drive, side, night, lied, wage, saved, made, face, nurse, church, worse, purse, back & that. (It is permissible to use the rhymes as the last syllable of longer words or homophones.}
Please note: the above is a true story (she said with her fingers crossed) – I found something on the drive when I returned home last night… :o]
Image: Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons