The War of A and B

A and B do not agree
And neither will repent
In separate rooms they sit and brood
Refusing to relent

For A’s been hurt by B you see
When cruel words were flung
So A retreated thence to brood
Upon the words that stung

Oblivious to bleeding wounds
B shrugged and shook their head
B always speaks what B believes
Opinions in truth’s stead

The pride of B is not alone
For A now holds a grudge
Refusing to confront the past
A now B’s ruthless judge

B knows that there is something wrong
And tries to offer love
A thumbs their nose, rebuffs the gift
Until B just gives up

Retreat now A and B! Retreat!
In trenches bide your time.
Cast bombs of hatred from afar
Don’t cross the enemy line

For pride will wage its war in each
Until that line is crossed
There reconciliation waits
To bring back what’s been lost.

© Rachel Svendsen 2015

Amazing Alliteration Adventures: Act II

The two of them tripped through the tavern. Darkness dimmed their drunken journey. Kelly cuddled closer to Kevin.

“The stars sure seem singularly shiny,” she sighed softly.

Kevin coughed. His fingers followed the folds of her frock. They wistfully wound round her waist.

“Holy hippo honey.” He hugged her hungrily. “I cannot keep completely quiet. You know now, my nymph, I need you. Leave that lousy loaf of a looser. The whole hope of my happiness hinges on having your heart. I would willingly wander the wild wilderness of Wisconsin to win you. Come kiss me Kelly.”

“Please,” she pleaded. “We’re positively pissed! That third tequila tipped my total towards twenty.”

“I’m always an inebriated, inept, idiotic addict when you’re around. Don’t disparage darling. Drinks definitely don’t destroy the deepest devotions.”

“Drinks do destroy discernment.”

“Let’s lock lips and let lesser lovers live life in laughable languishing.”

Kelly kissed Kevin. Kevin kissed Kelly. The two tipsy travelers touched tenderly. His happy hands hung on her hips.

“Get your grubby grips off my girl!” Craig cried crossly. “I won’t watch you wipe your whistler all over my wife.” His huge hands heaved the hapless, happy huggers apart.

“Sir,” Kevin stuttered. “Surely you saw that she started…”

Craig waved his words to the wind. “Lie and I’ll litter your lousy limbs high and low. I heard your horrible hypnotic humming turning her touched head. Gentlemen generally grant graces to gin-soaked girls. You sir are simply unsavory.”

The two men tumbled to the tarmac in a tangled twist of turbulent thumps. Punches pummeled poor Kevin. He whimpered and whined wretchedly. Craig lost himself in loads of loony laughter.

Kelly kicked Craig. “Craig you creepy crawler! You cruddy, contemptible, cruel, crap-for-brains, canine! You can’t consistently crawl around. Can’t you comprehend I’ve completely changed. Kevin cares for me. I care for Kevin. So, keep your crusty claws off my charming Kevin or I’ll quickly crush your callous chest until it caves.” Her hand hit his head. The slap signaled silence for the troubled trio. Kevin crawled from Craig and cowered cautiously behind Kelly.

A one word warning whipped willfully from the feisty fräulein, “Flee!”

Craig chuckled. “Sure sweetheart.” A simpering smile suddenly slid slyly over his seductive face. “I will walk away. But beware. When your willful wild streak snaps, I won’t be willing to wipe your whiffer.”

Kelly remembered, really remembered, the romantic rendezvous with Craig. She suddenly screamed.

“Craig please pardon my passing passion. I’m pickled. Pissed. Plastered! This predicament is purely potty. There’s only one wonder-boy for this worshiping wife. Don’t depart darling. Your kisses can cleanse Kevin’s corrosive cancer from my callous cadaver.”

Craig cackled contemptuously. “Frankly fräulein…” the familiar phrase went unfinished. He flipped her the finger and frolicked forward leaving his lovely lady to lament her lifetime of loneliness.

© Rachel Svendsen 2014

Anyone for Tennis?

It was a lovely day for tennis. I climbed up the three steps and shimmied my butt into the Official’s chair with the steering wheel in hand. I waited while my mother walked my Grandmother onto her side of the court and closed the door. She made her way to the other side of the net.

“So,” I said. “Where to now?”

My mother lobbed the ball into the air above her head. “Home,” she said. Her racket connected with the yellow rubber sphere with a light THOCK. It bounced neatly over into my Grandmother’s side of the court.

Granny swung her racket and returned the ball. “Well, why don’t I take yous out tah eat?” Granny replied. “We could go to Ginny’s.”

“That’s fine,” my mother said. The ball hit the court near the edge of the line. They both looked up at me.

“Wait a minute,” Granny said. “What about Rachel? Do you have time to stop with us?”

I motioned that the ball was in bounds. “I have time. So is that where I’m driving to?”

My Grandmother shrugged before serving the ball over the net. “Well, ask your mother dear.”

My mother skipped back a step and grunted as she returned. “I don’t care.”

Granny dodged to the right. Lovely backhand. “Well, I’d like to treat yous.”

Mom ran up to the net. “That’s fine.”

My Grandmother ran back to catch the ball. “Well, where do yous want to eat?”

“Just pick somewhere close. Ginny’s or Napoli’s is fine.”

I began to laugh. The ball froze midair over the net. Granny looked at me. “What are you laughing at?”

I shrugged. “Nothing. You’ll find out later.”

“Okay.” The ball fell straight to the ground and merrily bounced its way off the court. Silence came next. I drove down the street blindly for about another mile before I dared to ask again.

“So where am I going?”

Granny’s serve again apparently. “Ask your mother.”

My mother easily lobbed it back. “I don’t care.”

THOCK “Well what do yous feel like eating?”

THOCK “Whatever.”

THOCK “Because I’ll take you wherever yous want to go.”

THOCK “I don’t have a preference.”

Granny ran to the net and heaved herself up. Her racket sliced through the air with terrific force as she spiked the ball at the ground. My mother didn’t reach it in time. It rolled out of the court.

“Well, why don’t we just go to Ginny’s,” Granny said.

“Game. Set. Match.” I said aloud. My Grandmother, in the passenger seat, and my mother, in the back, both cocked their heads curiously. I put on my blinker, turned the wheel, and glided the car into the parking-lot.