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Two Roads Less Than Traveled

 

 

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood

Not sure if I could synchronize both

I decided to try two parallel paths

And found that with some care I could.

 

Coming home one night in one of those lives

I was stopped at the doorway by one of my wives.

Who asked me why the shirt I was wearing

Smelled of perspired perfume/kippered herring.

 

I told my woman not to worry

And said I cared not when she smelled of curry.

She laughed and I kissed her up-tilted head

But lost her; proof wafted while naked in bed.

Coming home one night in one of those lives

I was stopped at the door by one of my wives.

Who asked me why the shirt I was wearing

Smelled of perspired perfume

and of kippered herring.

 

I told my love not to worry—

That I didn’t care when she smelled of curry.

 

She smiled and went to tidy the room.

I hurried to the bath to shower and groom.

Exiting the bath I could see she had gone

She left a note saying she’d been ripped to her core--

That no bathing could remove what she sensed at the door.

Perhaps of two lives I may have kept one,

And though it may smack of gloom,

If only one road, however trodden, I had loved--and then more.