NaPoWriMo: Day Seventeen

What’s that coming over the hill?

I see his words everywhere
But not in my space
He’d rather be somewhere
There’s a prettier face

He picks them all carefully
And each gets one week
When he’ll comment each day
And offer his tweak

With his humorous comments
And winks of his eye
He reels them all in
And I watch, and I sigh

And just when they think
They are specially chosen
He drops them like hot cakes
His words become frozen

I know he means well
And that he’s with me now
But when they call him ‘Master’
And deeply they bow

I can’t help but feel
That he’s leading them on
That they take him to heart
With his line and his song

Does it bother me?
Yes. Just a few days each month
When my hormones are raging
And I’ve got the hump

Like today. Which is why
I am writing this ode
To dispel all the feelings
I need to offload

I am woman, and I am
Entitled to roar
Like a tigress on heat
When she needs to get more

And if I’m correct
And he misses my site
He’ll be none the wiser
To my green-eyed plight

But if I am wrong
And he reads this right through
“I love you, my darling
My sweet, Babaloo.”

He wouldn’t be him
If he didn’t support
Those who need guidance
With what they have wrote

And if they misread him
That’s no fault of his
There’s no need to worry
He thinks I’m the biz!

End this with tanka
My choice for NaPoWriMo
We’re compatible
Except I show my feelings
And he keeps his off the page

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