Tuesday, November 15, 2011


There seems to be a wrinkle forming in my forehead.
A crease that shows just evidence enough of a frequent frown.
In certain lighting, it’s almost frightful.

But I will meet a man some day -- who will do chores around the house.
Cooking, dishes, laundry . . .
His principle duty will be to iron the wrinkle out of my brow.
With the strength of his warmth and his will, he will bid it go.
Overwhelmed by evidence of a frequent smile, the crease won’t have a choice but to leave me.

1 comment:

  1. I like the poem and I like the new, improved version of Prince Charming. I am glad to know he will be the cure rather than the cause of the wrinkle in your forehead.