An Afternoon Idyll

Flopped in  a  fern-filled, fertile garden nook,
Sipping soft drinks Eve read her mystery book.
Then, nibbling on a pear that dribbled on
Her birthday suit, Eve found her patience gone.
 
She thought why can’t the All In All provide
A decent fruit that won’t drip on my side
And stomach, gluing all the pages of
My book together, while, in clouds above,
 
He goes about his Lordly Business and
I’m left with sticky toes and ants and sand.  
"Adam, help—stop slurping on your Snapple!
I would like a nice, crisp, juiceless apple!"
 
Adam ignored her question and complaint—
A decent husband, he was not a saint.
Only thought he’d found the perfect woman,
Which went to prove that he was the first human. 
 
The Reptile, hearing them discussing this,
Slithering over, gave a little hiss,
Said “Honey, here’s an apple, don’t you cry;
You’ll know the reason for it by and by.”
 
And once Eve bit, she knew. A Voice above
Said “Get dressed!”, gave the two of them a shove.
The Reptile smiled and shrugged, then took a shake, 
Thought to himself “The first human mistake.”
 
 
 
 
 
 




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Sally Cook is both painter and poet. Whether writ­ing or paint­ing, she keeps a sharp eye out for the psy­cho­log­i­cal por­trait. Her essays and poetry have been pub­lished in jour­nals such as The Chimera, Chron­i­cles, Con­tem­po­rary Son­net, Iambs & Trochees, Pivot, and The For­mal­ist Por­tal. Look for her in the next issue of Light Quar­terly. Cook’s review “Rhyming The Right”, of William Baer’s anthol­ogy “The Con­ser­v­a­tive Poets”, may be seen both in the cur­rent issue of The Uni­ver­sity Book­man and on its website.