Ode to the Miller  

Posted by Olsen Potter in

I've been told I look like the Miller,
short, round, somewhat balding.
I take it as a compliment, because I
am, short round, somewhat balding.

So I read his tale. Seemed simple enough.
A girl, a guy, the girl's old husband,
the priest down the lane that likes to kiss
peoples "ers".

I like it enough to read it to my wife,
who, like every other time I read something to her,
gave a whimper. No laughter, no smile.
A whimper of disgust? A whimper that really said,
'Honey, I love you but stop reading to me'?

or was it a whimper of pain?

If only life were as simple as
the Miller's tale.

This entry was posted on Thursday, May 08, 2008 at 10:19 AM and is filed under . You can follow any responses to this entry through the comments feed .


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