Writing by Peter Hilton


A poem by C. Robert Hilton (an adolescent whinge that I think I wrote in my forties)

The woman I love and the woman I hate
Both came in at my garden gate.

The woman I love was full of cheer,
Her conversation good to hear.
The woman I hate could only squawk
in boring microscopic talk.

The woman I love was calmly wise
With rounded lips and ample thighs.
The woman I hate had fluttery eyes
And really believed she told no lies

The woman I love in simple dress
Epitomised attractiveness.
The woman I hate was only frilly.
She really was extremely silly.

The woman I love lay down with me.
She had no fear of being free.
The woman I hate, she dared not give.
She almost seemed afraid to live.

The woman I love she taught me well
So much more joy than I can tell.
The woman I hate is a spiritual miser.
She knows how deeply I despise her.

The woman I love and the woman I hate
Went back out of my garden gate.
She left me much to dwell upon,
And I shed tears because she's gone.

©2008 C. R. Hilton

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