The Wench B efore the Bench

by

Hardy Parkerson

The judge ascends his lofty bench,
Calls first case: a lowly wench.
The whore just grins, begins to smile;
She thinks she knows him, it's been a while.

"Why, you're a judge!" the whore exclaims.
"It's been a while, forgot your name."
The D.A. struggles to choose his terms;
The courtroom giggles, the judge just squirms.

"Order! Order! In this court!"
Exclaims the judge, who sits and snorts.
His face is red, his ears like embers;
That night in the motel he still remembers.

"I'm afraid, young lady, you are confused."
"Oh, no! Judge, it was you!
How well I remember the night we met;
Why, Judge! How could I ever forget!"

"Quiet! Quiet! Young lady, if you will!
Mr. Prosecutor, now please read the bill!
"Judge, I shall, if you insist;
But first please take a look at this!"

The judge's head begins to shake.
"A short recess this court will take.
You're free to go, Jury Members!
Defendant will please meet His Honor in Chambers!"

Court resumes, case dismissed;
The defendant blows the judge a kiss;
And says, "Mr. D.A., I think we've met."
The D.A. just wipes his brow of sweat.

Throughout the morning the docket moves;
The thief goes to jail, the truant to school;
High on the bench above us all
Such fine men dispense the law.

NEXT?
Why don't you look at Sonnet: The Drumstick-Tree’s Growth
by: Dr. John Celes
from: Coimbatore, Tamilnadu, India

To visit all of Hardy Parkerson's poems, click HERE

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