Banshee On Steroids Poem by Mark Heathcote

Do you think screaming like a banshee on steroids is normal?
Well, it isn't dancing on ice.
But I can tell you, dear, your voice cuts ice, it grates like an ice
boot both day and night across my heart and through my soul.
Why not do a cutesy, a pirouette or two? Don't you know I love you, silly old fool?
Do you think shouting is always appropriate?
It's just old-school, and I should give as good as I get as a rule.
Sorry darling, I can't figure it out
Whatever I say will be wrong,
like pig swill reaching a golden koi pond
While your silver tongue will always be right, putting me on thin black ice each night. Darling dear,
when will there be a breakthrough, what am I to do?