He rolls his eyes wryly

My husband is idiosyncratic

He sleeps all day in the attic

When the  moon  peeps out shyly,

He  rolls his eyes wryly

Saying, my dreams were  merely synthetic.

 

So. is that not good, I replied

If you hate then they can be dyed.

How about blue,

Will  ultramarine do?

I wanted pure silk,he then sighed.

 

I think it’s the sheets that you mean.

I am a wife, not a queen

I bought lots of cotton.

For silk  might get spots on.

I’ve got spots on my bottom, he screamed.

 

Well ,here is some TCP cream.

Try that and we’ll feel how it seems.

Go up to bed

And chew on some lead.

While I stay down here with my schemes.