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Sonnet: My Wild Irish Rose

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'Tasmanian Devil'
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She was a wild woman and I gave her

a bouquet of Tasmanian devils --

cartoon flowers in a spin of evils,

long stem, and smelly -- not a trace of myrrh --

and she saw them for what they were -- tokens

of my desire. Dionysian fireflies

danced outside our tent. No one heard our cries

as we caterwauled like theologians.

In the morning we saw we forgot

the granola and had ourselves a spat.

She called me an imbecile and limp prat.

I reminded her that she broke the cot.

The Tassie devil fleur de mal were rank.

And to tell the truth I deserved the spank.

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John Kendall Hawkins is an American ex-pat freelance journalist and poet currently residing in Oceania.

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