The Least Best Caress (a poem)

The Least Best Caress, a poem

The pressure controls me to impress,
Like hunger it compresses my dress,
But the less mess I show, the more I stress,
For jest is ripe inside the nest
With a mini guest, or pests,
That will test me after the rise in the west.


David A. Church

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s