Sounded Like Thwock

For the occasion of which I speak,

I wanted to wear my red, playful frock

Not the thing you chose,

that coarse, matronly  smock.

As I dressed myself I realized
I could only find one purple reddish sock
You said you’d laundered both
Then told me not to squawk
choose sensible shoes and a different color sock
so all of the other people there don’t gawk!

My temperature rose wishing you wouldn’t watch me like that, like a hawk
For once let me be, let me
dress for this funeral
It’s not like he’s from 
Royal effing stock!

You said I must stop all this independent talk
Don’t mock

I said you’re overstepping, too bossy, on my last nerve
Get ready to take a walk off a shortened dock.

You’re reply,

“You always balk. All talk. What a crock!”

Now boiling over 

Hearing only tic toc

Ouchy, oochy sounded like thwock!

That’s when it hit you,

the edge of the wok.

Uh oh 

Oh no

Better call old Doc.


Is he ever in for a shock!

A work of whimsical fiction for <a href=””>Shock</a&gt;

2 thoughts on “Sounded Like Thwock

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