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(Lyric Poems) To Whom Shall I Tell The Tragedy Of Our Illicit Romance?

Beloved.To whom shall I tell
The tragedy of our illicit romance?
Darling.Do you love your husband
Truly and heartily and justly?
Sweetheart.You take the cellphone
The phone rings.You call us to
Party with you at your hard working
And much maligned hubby's expense
You're the star expert hostess tonight
You entertain us.You're loving you are
In your element you sing like the little
Bird when you see us wolf down the
Exquisite Mediterranean dishes you serve
And your despised husband...he's the
One who looks for the crumbs who rushes
Out of the sight of the titled guests...
He hides under the bed in the children's
Room and doesn't show his face lest his
Huggared and rugged and rough appearance
Should peep in and cause offense
Sweet love.Have a heart and show mercy
And with love attend to the needs of
Your caring loving husband

No way boy.You got me wrong my love
My husband understands
He is fine he is comfortable so long as
He doesn't fret about this hearty situation
And he deserves what he gets
Eat and drink and dance with me
Dangling like a leaf in your arms my love
The days are longer and we are in love
Don't worry about tomorrow
Come and hold me in your arms
Give me a kiss
Then I'll be off to attend to the
Wounded pride of my husband

Dear love.For how long shall we go on and
Fool ourselves and be arrogant and think not your
Husband is plotting the chilling come
Back of his merciless revenge? You blundered
My love.The biggest mistake was for you
To get him a job and now he's our colleague
And we humiliate him the worst of the
Bawdy jokes are authored by you

It's not my business
If he's so grumpy and gloomy whatever ails him
It's his pre historic misfortune
To lack the sense of humor
The moon is bright outside
You're in the right mood for love
I'm passionate about you
Oh stop fearing the unknown
The unknown moon has issued the challenge
Take me in your arms
And lay me down under the bright moon light
And make love to me in the glare
Of the naughty peeping stars
Then we'll worry about the sight
Of my weeping husband hovering
Large and threatening over the sight
Of our last romp on the grass of mother earth

Sweetheart look over your shoulder
And he is looming large and danger is lurking over us
And he is pulling the illicit trigger my love
Who will tell the tragedy of our illicit
Romance when we're buried under the grass of mother earth?

poem by Ngaka Motaung
Added by Poetry Lover
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