What Are You Like? Poem by Mark Heathcote

I heard him say, over and over again.
"What are you like? "
It must have been quite a challenge-
to bite her upper-lip
and in spite of-all-that.
"What are you like? "
But obviously, she loved him-
with all her might.

Standing there I heard him say it again.
"What are you like? "
It must have been quite a challenge-
listening to his condescending tease
but smiling, she just, looked on.
"What are you like? "
Not even a squint in her eyes
not one could I spy.

"What are you like? "
He sniggered again
and she just shrugged
with involuntary laughter or was it pain.
"What are you like? "
She chuckled and grinned
as I ground my teeth away
it was then I was glad my bus came
saving me from this tumultuous pain.