Her Bracelet

A bracelet that she wears upon her wrist Instead of a wave, I get a fist, A happy blessing I asked placed upon the charm Maybe the monk had mistakenly, thought I said harm. A golden ring I gave a woman once before To which I was seeking happiness for forever more But, then one day on my table that ring she did place, Then she cursed me and slapped me on the face. Unto another woman I gave a special gift A bracelet to excite the soul and cause the mind to lift, But, who knows her thoughts and what will linger Maybe instead of a wave, she'll now give me her middle finger. Randy L. Mcclave