The Reign Of Tara Poem by John F. McCullagh

Of all the souls that I have known
while walking around in flesh and bone,
hers was the sweetest and the best,
especially when seen undressed.

she had been scalded while she was young
and even now she bears the scar.
An accident, her mother said.
I wondered then, I wonder now.

I'm damaged goods, she first confessed
When first I sought to kiss those breasts.
Hesitantly, her shirt undone.
I sought her nipples with my tongue.

Thereafter, lovers of a sort
inseparable, with love our sport.
Her little dog thought I was great
Her mother, though, viewed me with hate.

Then came the day my father died
With heavy heart I called my girl
The mother answered, venom hissing.
We're done, I thought. Just what she's wishing.

For what its worth, from this perspective,
misguided was her Mom's invective
Had Tara listened to her terrier
we both might have grown old the merrier.