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Anonymous commented at 2010-04-17 11:39:38 » #277816
The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small girl dizzy;
But I clung on like Death:
Such waltzing was not easy.
We romped until the pans
Slid from the kitchen shelf;
My mother's countenance
Could not unfrown itself.
The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle;
With every step you missed
My right ear scraped a buckle.
You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt,
Then waltzed me off to bed
Still clinging to your shirt.
"My Papa's Waltz" -Theodore Roethke
(Slightly modified by Anon)
2 Points Flag
The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small girl dizzy;
But I clung on like Death:
Such waltzing was not easy.
We romped until the pans
Slid from the kitchen shelf;
My mother's countenance
Could not unfrown itself.
The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle;
With every step you missed
My right ear scraped a buckle.
You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt,
Then waltzed me off to bed
Still clinging to your shirt.
"My Papa's Waltz" -Theodore Roethke
(Slightly modified by Anon)
2 Points Flag
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