Lottie Poem by Jonathan H. Scott

I slept beside a rattlesnake that bit me on the calf.
The thing was real; it was not fake. So please, withhold your laugh.

One day last week, I had a date. She did not live next door.
I traveled far—yes, way up state. Who knew what'd lay in store?

You see, the snake lived in her home. And, yes, I was forewarned.
But, when she let the creature roam, I knew it had been scorned.

No female thing upon this earth forgives for being spurned.
It's something in them from their birth. Her bite was quick (and burned) .

You'd think my date would have more sense, now that her snake was fed.
She stood there citing its defense. My leg was bleeding red.

I thought at once to stand my ground. To which my date cried, "No! "
The snake had wanted one more round and grabbed me by the toe.

I kid you not. I tell you true. I've only changed the name.
It hardly cared I wore a shoe. It bit me just the same.

But, by and by, we went to bed; I mean the girl and me.
Eventually, I woke with dread. The truth, now, I could see.

Of course, I tossed and turned all night. I knew the thing was near.
And, in the gloom, it was a sight. Its hissing I could hear.

So, in the dark, I leapt from bed. My feet had hit the floor.
There was no use in playing dead, for I was out the door.

My date was not so full of dread—the snake curled at her feet.
When she reached down to pat its head, my legs were in retreat.

I slowly tipped-toed down the hall. I thought the coast was clear.
Then, something slithered past the wall. (Was that cold-blooded fear?)

The snake stretched out upon a shelf—to size me up, I'm sure.
And, when it charged, I ditched myself…behind the bathroom door.

Into the shower I did leap. I dressed in time for brunch.
I suffered from the lack of sleep. My leg was eyed for lunch.

I knew that I was being watched. (From on the couch it starred.)
By then, the weekend had been botched. (As if my date had cared.)

I swear it wanted one more taste before I hit the trail.
I thought that I should leave posthaste. It shook its rattled tail.

I slightly moved—again it hissed. What had come over me?
It went to bite. (Thank God it missed.) My date enjoyed her tea.

Was Lottie meant to keep away all suitors coming near?
They visit, sure, but none will stay. (They all take off in fear.)

This story has been fun to tell. We're nearly at its end.
I hope it was not told pell-mell. My leg is on the mend.

I must admit I did augment a couple small details.
But that was only to prevent some minor rhyming fails.

Like, it was coffee that she drank (and not the mentioned tea) .
And, there were koi in the fish tank. I left that out, you see.

Oh, by the way, don't get me wrong. My date's a lovely girl.
For to the snake she'd hum a song as on her lap it'd curl.

The nearest I could get to her (I'm speaking of my date) .
Was twenty feet. We can concur that I am running late.

So, any more will have to wait ‘cause that's the end of that.
And, next time that I meet a girl, I hope she has a cat.