Poetry # 3: The Beauty and The Beast

A quick note: This poem is written from my wife’s perspective. Enjoy!

The night was beautiful
Moon was full
It was oh so peaceful

AND THEN IT BEGAN!

The uproar
the anger
the frustration

Not a clatter
not a clamor
not a racket.

The deafening silence
the dreaded noise
forming a rhythm
boiling the blood.

Wasn’t a dog howling
nor a cat meowing
not the bear growling
or a donkey braying.

It was the beast
hell bent on destroying the beauty.
The beauty of the night
the beauty of my sleep.

The night, far too young
as I tossed and turned
all a bit much to bear.

Patience, it went awry.
Pillow, it went soaring.
From my hands to his face.

Then it stopped.
Complete, total silence.

Bewildered I stood,
donning a slight, victorious smile.

The beast, it was done, gone, slain for life.
Or so I thought.

Till my husband turned
and began snoring again.

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