Friday, December 5, 2008

Forgive Her Trespasses

Fiction Friday

Fiction Friday is hosted this week by
Yvonne Blake at My Back Door
Be sure to visit for inspirational fiction!

Forgive Her Trespasses
by Beth LaBuff
Topic: Christmas Lights

A couple – married forty years,
The secret to their bliss?
Through the house and down the hall
An unseen line exists.

Two rooms were separated by
This line of demarcation
One chamber “his,” the other “hers”
For spousal isolation.

In her room, a rocking chair
With cushioned floral print.
A knitting basket perched nearby
With yarns of pastel tint.

In his room, a den of sorts,
And homage to his passions,
Where guns and mounted trophy heads
Were tributes of his actions.

She had, while settled in her chair
Resplendent inspiration—
Clandestine entrance to his room
For Yuletide decoration.

She hauled her stash of trimmings
To his hallowed, leathered lair.
Strands and strings of blinking lights
While he was unaware.

His south wall held a mounted bass,
Hung from its mouth, a lure.
She held a bauble to its fin
And tied it there, secure.

Great Uncle Albert’s picture hung
Next to the baubled bass –
She added chaser lights that lit-up
Clockwise round the glass.

She turned around then gazed upon
The wall that bordered east
Where smack dab in the center
Was a shoulder-mounted beast.

The beast was angled oddly,
His head wrenched, facing south.
She lit a Christmas candle
And placed it in his mouth.

The north wall held a bird in-flight
From Canada – a goose.
The goose-in-flight was wall-mates with
A mammoth head of moose.

Then up above, the light fixture,
Were cast-offs from some deer,
She hung some blinking snowflakes
From the antler chandelier.

Extension cords hid ‘neath a hide
Of pronghorn mammal fur.
She plugged the cord with three prongs in
A two-prong adapter.

Wrapped in the Yule moment,
A decorating whirlwind,
Multitudes of Christmas lights
Plugged end to end to end…

And still, she kept on adding lights—
Obsessed, compulsive urge.
Until the lights blinked off, then on—
Electric power’s surge.

AC/DC, watts, and amps,
Ungoverned energy,
By adding more the room maintained
High-powered synergy.

Finally, the last beast had been graced
With bulbs and decoration.
Back stealthily, she crossed the line
To gender segregation.

Expectancy for his return,
Excitement on her face,
She thought she heard a tiny “pop”
Perhaps … the fireplace?

A beep began to issue from
The sensor on the wall.
Smoke seethed from underneath the door
Then spewed into the hall.

Aghast, she peered across to see
Her husband’s char-broiled shotgun.
Who knew the room’s propensity? —
Spontaneous combustion!

The print of Uncle Albert
Shot high into the air.
It then became impaled upon
The antler chandelier.

The north wall saw excessive heat.
The goose – incinerated.
And on the floor a pile of ash,
Ill-fated moose — cremated.

With fried bass on the south wall,
She then rotated east—
Shocked electrocution of
The shoulder-mounted beast.

The leaning candle in the mouth,
That had been left ajar,
Made the beast appear like he
Was smoking a cigar.

They planned on eating out that night,
Cheeseburgers with some fries,
Instead, they opted to stay home.
For “Bar-B-Q Surprise”.

Inspiration from:
Forgive us our trespasses... Matthew 6:13

written for a faithwriters.com writing challenge
© Beth LaBuff -- November 2008

8 comments:

Hoomi said...

I'm going to have to make sure my wife reads this one. Another well-done (no pun intended) laugh out loud submission.

Sherri Ward said...

This is a fun one! Had me smiling all the way. Well done.

Treasure Seeker said...

a story and it rhymed and was so humorous!

how delightful!
dorinda

Patty Wysong said...

How on earth do you do this, Beffy? 'tis wonderful! I was snickering all through this-loved it!!

Dee Yoder said...

One of my absolute favorites of yours, Beth! But then, you have so many that I love. Poet extraordinaire, you are!

Josh said...

This is poetic genius right here. I'll be honest in saying that a lot of poems bore me. Yours, however, do not. I love your witty (and often hilarious) stanzas. This of coruse took first place in the writing challenge, and there's no reason it shouldn't have for that week.

Yvonne said...

Beffy, you are the master at poetic humor!

Stina Rose said...

This was great! I need to have my husband read this!