Coals

When Pat found Chakra Tuning energy,
she buzzed her Bed and Breakfast like a bee.
(As owner of Best Breakfast on the Coast,
  she jazzed the dish with fennel and French toast.)

Her husband waved his hand at Pat’s belief;
of Chakra Tuning, Moe just said, “Good grief!”
“I daresay that is trifle for the Gods!”
“Gewgaw, sweetheart, it goes against all odds!”

Pat’s stare beseeched of Moe to take a lock;
in fact it kind of cleaned Moe’s cocksure clock.
Moe felt the heaping coals upon his neck.
(He figured he should be more circumspect.)

“So tell me Honey, Chakra Tuning, eh?”
(Moe’s blatant mockery had gone away.)
Pat held a tuning fork close to her chest;
(Moe noticed Pat appeared to be less stressed.)

Moe tried to order mockery to come,
yet ridicule’s once open mouth stayed mum.
He saw in Pat composure framed with drive,
and lumbar tingles made him feel alive.

The travelers arrived for overnight;
Pat added scrambled eggs for morn delight.
She left the kitchenette to look for Moe,
and found him with the tuning fork, aglow.


24 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
February 16, 2014