The Broken Arm

My honey was out walking one dark summer night.
And fireflies were out in their luminescent delight.

“I must text my friends,” my sweet honey thought.
Not realizing with such danger this act was fraught.

So texting she attempted, and veered in to the ditch.
And while she was tumbling, thought, “Son of a *****.”

But gamely she continued to her sister’s near farm.
All the while quite certain she had broken her arm.

The doctors inserted some pins and a plate.
And my honey has been waiting for the pain to abate.

On her left arm she will bear a four inch scar.
But at least she wasn’t texting while driving a car!