Saturday, November 3, 2007

The Argument

Her creased brow looked like a furrowed road.

His darkened eyes were to Anger an abode.

Silence, the referee, blew the whistle that night

She took the left corner, while he took the right.

As Night limped along slowly, dragging second by second,

By Righteousness and Indignation, the warring factions were beckoned.

The audience of stars did the slanging match, brightly jeer

As an echo of quarrelling reruns repetitively did they hear.

A tired Morning reluctantly awoke to daily routine.

Some old habits and mechanical actions were seen.

The gesture of reaching out, even if for the paper,

Brought to a head last night’s bitter caper.

His head leaned forwards towards her shoulder

Just for an instant, the frosty air turned colder.

Then Familiarity brushed off the hurt of one so dear

And Love wafted back on the cup of morning cheer.

4 comments:

Stan Ski said...

Best not to sleep on arguments; the following morning can be very awkward, but the relief is more than welcome.

Tammy said...

A poem on arguing was very creative! Glad it was soon over. ;)

gautami tripathy said...

This is different!

witchcraft

Rambler said...

"She took the left corner, while he took the right."

ha ah this was a fun way of choosing bed sides :)