S p e l l i n g - I t - O u t

S p e l l i n g - I t - O u t


Man is not a mind reader,
         I realized at last;
Nostradamus maybe could
         In some far distant past.

I listen and I listen,
         Hoping to get a clue
How I can make her happy,
         So she won't get so blue.

I thought of something helpful,
         And asked if I'd done well,
But found I'd only dug myself
         Another foot toward Hell.

For I had not uncovered
         Deep meanings hidden 'neath
Those words that she once uttered,
         Some notions to bequeath.

Instead of thinking of it,
         I should have done the task,
For in her recollections
         That self-same deed was asked.

I know I would have done it,
         If I had guessed her need;
Instead of a sweet triumph,
         Again my heart must bleed.

I wish I had a manual
         To understand my girl;
I'd become a mind reader
         And give her all the world.