Poetry

• Forbidden Fruit

  A friend once said to me, after I had cast lascivious eyes
  At some pretty patient with a painful back
  Whose comeliness attracted thoughts alien to the GMC
  That having a nice front garden did not mean
  That one should not enjoy the countryside.
  Another put it in a different way
  And said one could get an appetite abroad
  As long as one ate at home.
  Hence I have continued to appreciate beauty in my beholder's eye
  But certain disappointments continue to assail me.
  One: the flawless blonde whose perfect portrait shivers to dust
  As soon as she opens her mouth;
  Two: although that maid is fresh and pleasing in your sight
  She has a five-year old and umbilical piercings, and so is damaged goods, but (worst) Three: the girl is utterly divine, but
  You fancy mummy more. Then there is a converse – four:
  Lovely the daughter might seem to another
  But might she grow up to look like her mother?
  Oh tempora! O mores! (so I mow the front lawn and sup at home).
  
  by Andrew Bamji
  25 June 2009
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