At last we went and did the deed.
In Amsterdam we tried the weed.
I waited in anticipation
for the promised exultation
but after several inhalations
..............nothing.
I inhaled big breaths of the joint,
won-der-ing what was the point?
My husband on the other hand
could hardly speak and could not stand.
It took two minutes, that is all.
He had to sit, or he would fall.
He had to sit and suck sweet sweets.
We had to help him through the streets.
I forgave him by and by..............but
how bloody dare he steal my high?!
After years in the electronics industry, Ann Smith is retired and lives in Wales. Her poems, rengay, and haibun have featured in Wales Haiku Journal, Prune Juice, Failed Haiku, Poetry Pea, Under the Basho, and other journals, the Cherita and Gembun anthologies, and the South Wales Evening Post. So far she has earned two bottles of rum and some toilet brushes for her longer poetic efforts.
