I built my house of mud and straw;
in hindsight,
it was clearly flawed;
he came
and huffed
and puffed
and blew
and sent my house
to Timbuktu.

rebuilt with twigs;
in half a day
he came
and blew my twigs away.

I tried again -
this time with bricks
and steel and mortar,
beams and sticks
and this time when he came to call,
he tried
but failed to break my walls.

he howled
he cried
he begged me - "PLEASE!"
he got down on his hairy knees

he snarled
and threatened -
broke my window;
still refused to let him in, though.

finally,
the wolf got smart -
sang me a song
that broke my heart

he brought me candy
and jewelry
and flowers,
sat on my porch,
read me poems for hours.

of course,
I could resist no more -
gave in to temptation
and opened the door.

I should have trusted my natural hunch
'cause he leapt cross my threshhold
and ate me for lunch

which proves
that in the survival game,
a wolf bearing gifts
is a wolf
just the same.

12/23/2005

Posted on 03/26/2007
Copyright © 2024 Maria Francesca