Grasping the Nettle

A flowery poem.

 

Ivy

I was in a quandary and all because

I was in love with both Iris and Rose.

Then there was their friend Jasmine

whose beauty put my head in a spin.

I was rather keen to marry and settle

yet still reluctant to grasp the nettle.

I went on few dates with buxom Daisy

but her tittle-tattle drove me crazy.

When I met Flora my search was over,

with this girl by my side I was in clover;

a week later, having reached my tether,

we parted  – and I took up with Heather.

She clung to me like ivy, tenaciously;

I gave her the push but did it graciously.

I rejected them all, Rubenesque or slim

but now my prospects look rather grim:

I am old and decrepit, without a wife,

and destined to endure a solitary life.

 

© Luigi Pagano 2016

 

 

 

© ionicus 2020
critique and comments welcome.
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Gerry

Blimey Luigi you take some satisfying. May I suggest you try Evening Primrose—I found her very rewarding.;-)..
gerry.

Elfstone

… and I smiled at this too 🙂 I can’t see you being “old and decrepit”! Elf.

Jay12

I love this little ditty!

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