The exercise:
I guess writing only four lines on pirates just wasn't enough for me - I had to go start a pirate story too. I think it's out of me system... my system now.
Today's starter: the lemon tree.
Yar.
Mine:
Watching over the land from atop its hill,
The lemon tree sways in winds awash in dill;
It offers its golden wares to one and all,
And spares not a thought for the onset of Fall.
It is proud to know that its children will be
Lemonade and garnish and soothing cool tea;
And when the day arrives that it is blown down,
That hill won't be the same without its soft crown.
2 comments:
Looks like your pirate story is gathering momentum! You'll have to start plotting it soon... ;-)
The lemon tree
"Bury me under a cherry tree,"
Was my mother's last instruction to me,
"But you're not gone yet," I said.
"Bury me there when I'm dead."
But a life as bitter as arsenic deserves less,
And when she died, dressed in her Sunday best,
I remembered her words, and appropriately,
Buried her under a lemon tree.
Me pirates will have none of yer plottery!
Yar.
Loved your poem. A bitter burial for a bitter woman. Ah, smells like justice :P
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