POETRY – The Wrong Don


I thought that I’d found my Don Juan,

Which put a sweet smile on my face,

But he turned out to be more like Don Quixote,

Tilting at my windmills and invading my space,

Riding headlong against all intuition,

Truly confident in the power of his lance,

Alas … his self-esteem was quite shaken,

When it drooped at the strength of one glance,

He retreated, regrouped and charged again,

This time I used my razor sharp tongue,

Then his intimidating flesh became flaccid once more,

Such a shame because he was really well hung.


I must say … I admired his persistence,

When he decided to give it another go,

So I let him get close enough to convince me,

That I definitely wanted to say; “No”.

I’ll admit that he was persuasive,

And I was thinking about just saying; ”Yes”,

When I was overcome by wanton lust,

Whereby I weakened and let him be my guest.

He parried and thrust and drove it on home,

His enthusiasm was my reward,

Oh yes! His impressive display leaving …

… no doubt in my mind,



The engagement lasted for hours,

And I don’t feel any remorse,

I even cooked him a hearty breakfast,

And gave him an apple for his horse.

That hunky Don had limited relationship potential,

Therefore I’m afraid that he is since long gone,

After all … he was ONLY like Don Quixote,

And I require the practiced expertise of Don Juan.


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