Content was I to mind my store,
thimbled fingers sewing,
mending rents,
stitched up bitterness suspended,
logic lashed with leather laces,
fully finished running races.
Then you came knocking at my door,
pried from off my box the lid,
searched among the secrets hid,
dispensed with ease my placid peace.
Did you anticipate a bore,
find me darning holes in soxs?
You wily wolf, you sly old fox,
fitted out in flanneled fleece,
baseball cap upon your head,
tall tales twinkling in your eyes,
while you sized me up for size,
otherwise,
I can't remember what you said,
maybe "Can you spare a dime",
or "Have we ever met before?"
Fisherman with hook and line,
"I'm sorry but I haven't time,
don't you know I know the score"
It's rather late,
a proper introduction
before a smoothe seduction
would have been appropriate.
Why did you forget to mention,
the subtle gist of your intention?
"Excuse me, please.
I'm not at home,
I did not want to write this Poem."