Very Bad Archive
The Sword
Richard James, Bitch
A traveler, was I, weary from the storm
of life, and so I stepped into a bar.
I drank, then soon encountered from afar
A vision of a most exquisite form
Her hair of onyx, skin so golden, warm
and radiant, like her gaze, that of a star
Our eyes met - and agreed, across that bar
To whisk us to the privy of my dorm.
So read'ly to her, I, my passions, gave
and hers to me; yet now, to my dismay
For when I sought an entrance to her cave
A sword of pork emerged, on full display
Ne'er have I forgotten, nor forgave
Myself for the mistake I made that day.
Richard James, Bitch has published 2 more terrible poems since joining on 30/11/99. Read more of Richard's terrible poetry at the anthology. Here are three of Richard's latest works: