I think my husband is a vampire
He never goes to bed,
He stays up watching telly;
Films of horror and blood shed.
And when he thinks I’m sleeping
I hear the front door creak,
And then he goes on walkabout;
Sometimes for a week…
We don’t have any pets now –
They seem to meet a sticky end;
It’s the marks upon their neck
That the vet can’t comprehend…
In our shed there is a coffin
He says he’s trying it for size;
In case he comes a cropper –
Should I hypothesize?
I think my husband is a vampire
His cheeks are lacking colour;
And he may have lost some weight,
He used to look a little fuller.
He says he’s changed his diet
That his taste is more refined –
He now likes a glass of ‘red’
In the evenings to unwind…
He was a vegetarian –
Organic and home-grown;
Now he’s demanding steak,
Mostly rare and on the bone…
He’s a caring kind of chap though;
The nursing home’s his vice –
He says helping those old dears,
Is worth a sacrifice (or two!)
I think my husband is a vampire
He’s allergic to the sun –
He’s blackened all the windows
And he’s padlocked every one.
And i’ve noticed when i’m wearing
My silver crucifix;
He gets very agitated
And develops facial ticks…
I think my husband is a vampire,
I think he’s one of the ‘un-dead’
He’s taken all the mirrors down
And flees from garlic bread…
If my husband is a vampire
Perhaps I should cut my losses –
Once a ‘would be David Beckham’,
Now he’s terrified of crosses…
But I don’t think I could leave,
If we ever were apart –
He said it would feel just like
A stake right through the heart!
Reblogged this on Poems and more from Richard Archer and commented:
A great poem from Marianne Burgess
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Thanks – and you’ve heard this a few times now!!
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Absolutely wonderful work Marianne. 🙂
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Awww – thanks so much!! Means a lot! x
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