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Sunday Morning Blues/

Updated on April 17, 2010

Sunday Morning Blues.


She was like wet paint
on sharply curved bannister's,
she had "Don't Touch"
written all over her,
but I was the curious sort.

Three more drinks
and many smiles later,
I climbed her stares to heaven
hanging on for dear life.

She left a stain on my soul,
and a note in my wallet,
thanking me for the cash donation.

I was out fifteen hundred,
while she was probably out
getting a second coat.

Mama had always warned me
about painted ladies
and a bottle of wine.



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    • MFB III profile image

      MFB III 8 years ago from United States

      My blood is often Typo...but I gave this poem a transfusion...thanks for stopping by. I will see yours soon.~~MFB III

    • profile image

      Brenda Durham 8 years ago

      Very vivid, very good.

      Could use some spelling editing! (if ya don't mind me sayin').

      But I like it.