This is Prompt No. 65-Poetry
"I've come to entertain you," Shane announced one day as he strode through the door, a small book under his arm.
Mitchie, sitting up in bed, giggled. "It's working already," she assured him.
He grinned at her and sank into the chair that was ever present at her bedside. "Good," he said, brushing off her teasing remark. "I'm glad my mere presence brings such joy to your life."
"Oh it does," Mitchie responded, but her tone was no longer teasing. The truth of her words startled Shane, but he soon grinned. He started to say something, no doubt about the current subject, but Mitchie quickly changed the subject. "What did you bring me today?"
"A book of poems," Shane told her, holding up the work carefully so as to not break the brittle pages. "I thought you might like to read some of them."
Mitchie smiled at his thoughtfulness. "If you help me to the chair by the fire," she bargained, "you and I can read it together."
Shane smiled. "Sounds perfect to me." He tucked the small book under his arm and stood, reaching down to pick Mitchie up from the bed, cradling her injured side as he strode to the chair by the fire. He settled some blankets around her to keep her from getting cold, and asked, "Do you need more?"
Mitchie shook her head and couldn't help but smile at his attentiveness. "I'm fine," she assured him. "Come and sit."
She indicated the chair across from her and smiled again, coaxing him into no longer fussing. "Fine," he relented and seated himself in the chair.
"What kind of poems are they?" Mitchie inquired.
Shane glanced down at the book and then looked at her, slightly embarrassed. "Honestly, I don't know. It was the only poems book on the shelves in the library, so I took it without looking."
Mitchie giggled. "I'm sure they're fine, no matter what."
Shane nodded and opened the book, thumbing through the pages. "What would you like me to read?" he asked, indicating that there was a whole table of contents based on the nature of the poems.
Mitchie shrugged, cuddling into her blankets. "I don't care. Pick one you think you'd like."
For a moment, Shane peered through the pages, his brow furrowed slightly as he tried to digest the strange language of poems. Suddenly, and without warning, he let out a laugh. He looked at Mitchie, still laughing, and choked out, "Sorry."
Mitchie craned her neck in an effort to see what he had been reading, but could not make it out. "What on earth?" she asked. "What's so funny?" His laughter was infectious, and she had a hard time keeping her face straight as she asked, "I doubt the writers would be too thrilled if they found out that you were making fun of them. It takes a long time to come up with a great poem, you know."
Her authoritative manner only made Shane laugh harder. "Yes," he chuckled, nodding. "I'm sure this took a great deal of time and effort!" His words came out slightly garbled since he laughed as he talked.
Mitchie couldn't bear not knowing what he had been reading, so she requested, "Would you read it to me?"
Shane nodded, still laughing, and tried to control his chortles long enough so that he could explain, "I looked under 'Romance,' and this is what I found." He turned back to the book and read:
"Please be mine
Think you're swell
Else I'll push you down the well" (Taken from The Immigrant Diary of Ivy Weatherall pg.156)
His eyes met Mitchie's and they both burst out laughing. "A truly romantic gesture," Shane crowed, making them laugh even more. When they finally settled down, Shane looked at Mitchie smugly. "And that, my dear, took years to put into writing."
That sent them off once again, laughing so hard that Mitchie was forced to hold her shoulder to keep it from vibrating too much. "Oh stop!" she cried, still laughing.
They finally quieted down, but for the rest of the time they spent examining the other poems in the book, they exchanged glances that bordered on laughter-starters. Finally, Shane closed the book and said, "I think that's enough. I don't understand how people can understand that." He shrugged and added, "Maybe I don't have enough of a poetic mind."
Mitchie nodded, trying to keep back a giggle. "That must be it," she told him.
Shane glanced back at the book, and his teasing features slipped into a more tender expression. "I have an idea," he told her.
A/N: Guessing time! What's his idea? Let me know what you think! :D
