The Saint is at the blood bank today
giving Plasma
This is not your usual love poem
I am the cowardly Lion
The Saintly one usually is turned
down as anemic eats red meat
You see I am supposed to be Popeye
she eats spinach to be able to give blood
Me, the Emergency room medic
I fear needles and the sight of blood
Especially my own
Not only does she give blood but plasma
I must say I was not always a coward
At the Hospital every time there was an emergency
I was in the area I gave blood
So being a coward is a learned thing
I justify it as my blood is common
She has that blood that is hard to find
I don't often write love poetry so this is like
her blood quite rare
I married a Saint
I have stood in the ring with large men
who were there to draw blood from me
And yet I am afraid of a tiny needle
Ps: The Saint just came home. The spinach
and red meat did not work. She is anemic
and could not give blood. So she volunteered
me. This is taking Sainthood too far!!