This Week’s Topic:
Proposals. (Have you been proposed to, thought of how it should be done, shot yourself in the foot? )
Wait does that say Words of a Wanton Woman? Do I have something to tell you? Yes.
But it isn’t that I’m really a woman.
Then why are you posting for a thing with the words Wanton and Woman in it? Well I am saucy but that is beside the point. Actually it is because the love Mei over at Diary of a Fair Weather Diver. She
bullied me into it I mean complained asked me to. Why I’m not sure. I mean don’t I get called miss enough as it is? Anyway she took my bait about the whole thing being sexist and kept turning it around on me saying to submit. I’m just going to go with my writing is SO awesome that she could not pass on having me take part.
Anynotactuallyawoman on to the post no? Proposals. Interesting. I can dispel a myth here. Just because you are a poet does not mean every single thing you do will be exceedingly romantic.
No comments out there!
This is something I get often:
“Can you please stop doing that?” and/or “I’m trying to sleep.”
Oh uh uhm wrong topic. Crap. Ignore what you just read. Actually this is usually how a conversation goes.*
One or several ladies gather around. They move in with their champagne glasses and notepads.
Chick(s): Oh jimi oh jimi! Your wife must be so lucky to have a poet for a husband. It must be awesome. I can imagine how sweet life is with you! Oh Oh Oh tell us the story of how you proposed.
Jimi steps up and a heavenly glow falls upon me as I speak.
*Events may have been slightly exaggerated.
Sit back kiddies for the entire paragraph recap of how I asked the love of my life to marry me. It was an evening like any other evening. We had just returned home from the grocery store and as we walked up the court yard a bluebird chirped. I called out to it and miraculously it landed on my hand. I pulled an engagement ring out of pocket put it in its mouth and sent it over to her.
Okay actually I saw she was struggling with all 7 of the grocery bags so I put my phone away and took one from her hand. I then said “bitch ya want a ring on that finger don’t ya.”
Okay truthfully as we walked up the court yard we talked about marriage (we’d been together 10 years when we got married) in the sense of people keep asking us about it. As we reached the door I said
“we probably should just get married already right?
“So you want to get married then?”
I then read a long sonnet of Shakespeare to her and she knew I was serious. Okay the sonnet part didn’t happen. I did get very happy inside though. Not because we were getting married per se. I mean we were together forever already. I loved her. I knew she loved me. There was no doubt in my mind we were in it till the end. The marriage was a way to
shut everyone up celebrate our love with everyone else. I got happy (and excited) at the prospect of writing a poem for her as my vows, and I did.
It (the poem) rocked but that is another story. So I hope you enjoyed this. Sorry to disappoint. Go clicky and read the others.