***
Changing a light bulb – how many does it take?
Our house requires two, so there are no mistakes
I do the changing. My wife’s the supervisor
She takes on that role convinced she is the wiser
A “high vaulted ceiling” is in our living room
An architectural phrase that is fraught with great doom
Because to change light bulbs requires a tall ladder
Each time I replace one, it makes me grow madder
Recessed lighting means it’s harder to reach
It makes bad words become a part of my speech
But my spouse refuses to sit around in the dark
She’s funny that way, offering subtle remarks
Like how I should get up and get on the stick
And change out that light bulb, and be double-quick
I decided to cut corners because that is my way
But sadly, as always, there was a harsh price to pay
Instead of the ladder, used a swivel bar stool
My wife gently informed, “You are such a fool.”
“Don’t climb up on that. You are going to fall!”
She’s always dramatic. I chose to ignore it all
“Go get the ladder and do the job right.”
It’s only a burned bulb. I’ve changed many a light
Not even once have I ever been hurt
Manly discretion, I decided to assert
I got the new light bulb, and straight-up I went
Would be the easiest few seconds that I’d ever spent
Was startled, however, by the swiveling chair
But could not let my spouse know. I just did not dare
“You never listen to a word I say!”
She was right about that, but on that stool, I’d stay
I was not going to give her the satisfaction
Although I was slipping without any traction
“Please get the ladder, or you will break your neck.”
She always worries. But I would not hit the deck
Knew what I was doing, though the bar stool was shaky
“You’re going to tumble! You’ll be stiff, sore, and achy!”
Nervously teetering on the swiveling chair
I stood on tiptoes and reached high in the air
Latched onto the bulb and gave it a twist
It refused to budge, so I had to persist
Gripped even tighter, yanked to the left HARD
The wobble of the bar stool caught me off guard
It suddenly swiveled!! Sent me through the air
Landed flat on my back with a stunned glassy stare
Knocked the breath out of me. Could not say a word
But as my eyes refocused, I did barely observe
My lovely bride with a hand on her hip
“I’ll get the ladder.” She was quick with a quip
But as I watched her slowly walking away
I clearly heard my long-suffering wife say
As she employed sarcasm with a large grin
“And THAT is why women live longer than men!”
Poetry At Play 