I'M No Saint, Saint Poem by Cleveland W. Gibson

I'M No Saint, Saint

Rating: 4.0

Wise men told how it came to pass,
St. Anthony strolled through fields of grass.
To him the tiger said with a ferocious grin,
Hairy lips quivered on a double chin.

“Women kill men with ugh! Warpaint,
And I kill all but then I'm no saint, Saint.
“Females stick with their tuck and trim,
And men get fat away from the gym.

“Life to me is a kind of mess,
So much like the jungle, I guess.”
The kind Saint stopped and gave a sigh,
Then his hand pointed up up into the sky.

The tiger looked way past the cloud,
At a cupid- bow hung like a shroud.
“Maybe that, that's what I love to see,
Juicy real red meat and forget the tea.

“So good to chew and chew, such a delight,
On a belle woman; she's a ravishing sight.
Yet, still I choke on powder and paint?
Driven to eat 'cause I'm no saint, Saint.”

Valsa George 10 September 2015

Yes..... we are no saints and each one has his own weakness! To the tiger it may be flesh, for men it may be women, to another, it may be carnal love! I enjoyed the jingling sound of the poem effected by the use of alliterative words! A very entertaining write! Though I tried to post a comment earlier, I couldn't as the screen kept shifting from one poem to the other. Strange enough, it was with your poems alone!

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Loved the sound of the poem but I got lost in the 4th stanza. Understood the poem till then.

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