By Jodette P
Bearing the endless merciless night-
the moon’s weight on my back,
soiled grass tickling my toes with their little fingers,
slung across my shoulder is a sack.
And at that sack,
I have a shovel and a spear,
I have a knife and a splint,
And a pack of cheese- oh so dear!
But with the stars as my witness
Three! Fingers to myself,
That I will try to hunt for dinner,
I won’t eat the cheese from the kitchen shelf.
Shield me from the wind,
Indoors it’s not the same,
I shall get down on all fours,
want to earn me some good game.
A rustle amongst the grass,
The beauty beast is in my sight.
The spear in my palm I swing it to my right.
A cry, agonizing call,
Of the mighty beast.
But I look again.
Lying on the ground is not the beast- just it’s child.
And the beast stands,
But paw on it’s baby’s face,
Licking the tears dry.
I can bear this no more, rest my case, rest my case.
This is no solid food,
I have a warm heart at the least-
I will not start a fire.
I will not have a feast.
I will be stronger than that,
So strong my spear couldn’t catch.
With the cheese and some tapioca,
I’ll make a pizza- It’s the wilderness’ perfect match!
Inspired by my friend to write a poem with real rhyme in it… but i’m no Dr. Suess, I don’t think rhyme likes me very much :P
2 things I was thinking about as I wrote the poem- lions and good-old-pizza… yum.
Tell me what you think!