Bidding Me Goodbye and Goodnight Poem by Mark Heathcote

She makes me old in a matter of hours and minutes.
I hear Turkey wattles bidding me goodbye
and goodnight, my dear.
My body is a vessel without oars, paddles, or powers.
I am drawn to the rocks of oblivion.
By her who punishes me not to look upon her
why, she is a deviant devilish omnipotent sprite
like thunder at first to begin
but later a far more forgiving creature in tone
but how much longer? No one can tell.