Chaff

One day I swallowed ragweed, for a laugh,
A wheeze, a joke, my method of romance,
But lovely Letty led me such a dance
That I gave up. It was a reckless gaffe,
And she warned me my jokes were nonsense — chaff,
An empty bluff on which she looked askance.
I said, “My soul is an open expanse,”
And she replied, “I’ve dumped your photograph.”

She pointed to a thistle and a shrub
Where it had caught, and, muttering my name
Like cursing, to reiterate her claim,
She meanly threatened me with a large club.
She huffed, “Your picture does you justice, Bub.”
I asked, “Did you also throw out the frame?”