As she runs the bath for her beloved

Filling it with bubble and froth

She hums to herself an old forgotten ditty

Talking of love and betrayal, it doth.

She picks up the pile of clothes from the corner

Out falls a photo of a pretty maiden on the floor.

It has her beloved’s name on the back

Her heart has been asunder tore.

She is certainly not the kind to mope around

She needs her sweet revenge, upon her troth!

She plots to teach him a lesson or two

He’s seen her love, now he’ll know her wrath.

A devious idea comes to her crafty mind

She gets busy with putting the finishing touch

Before he is back from work

She wants to be ready pretty much.

He comes back, she greets him at the door,

His eyes widen, she’s like flame to this moth,

After soaking in the bath, when he comes out

She offers him chilled bubbly with froth.

She leads him to the dining room

His favourite food is laden on tablecloth

He delightedly savours each morsel

And dives with relish into the delicious broth.

She watches coyly as he finishes his dinner

He slumps and his mouth begins to foam and froth

He who cheats and breaks her heart

On him, the worst of hell would be wrought.


14 thoughts on “Froth

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