She shouts, she shakes;
she dances; earth quakes.
She howls, she takes;
she performs; head aches.
Let me tell you ’bout pretty dear Penny; she whirls and dervishes like a spinning jenny. When she is good she is very, very good; but when she is bad – demonic womanhood!
At dawn, when she arises; her mumbled good-mornings shatter heavenly high-rises. And when she falls into a-slumber; the world mourns drained, resplendent in umber.
O such perfection this fine woman is; hair reaching out in explosive fizz. With eyes of allure, motives uncertain; she dresses in naught but draped theatre curtain!
From the Compendium of One Hundred Word Stories
Words and pic: ©DJA 2016
The Angry Farmer 