The exercise:
Your four line poem prompt this week is: the baker.
Hanging out with some friends tonight to watch UFC 111 - should be a good night of fights. Unfortunately, the PPV will still be going when Earth Hour hits so I don't think I'll be able to celebrate it like last year.
Mine:
He smells like pastries and bread,
Our friendly local baker -
But he's slender as a knife,
So I think he's a faker.
3 comments:
I think the UFC beats Earth Hour celebrations :) Was it a good set of matches?
I'll keep you updated on my Vancouver travels, but hopefully the dates are now fixed, so we should be pretty good.
A thin baker... yeah, I find that hard to imagine too. I'd certainly not manage to stay thin if I were baking all day!
The baker
The villagers live in fear
Of upsetting their only baker
Because he's also the executioner:
Death by poisoned éclair....
Never trust a skinny chef, is my motto. And Greg...it may be risking death to eat the eclair, but what a way to go!
The Baker
The man with the large chef’s hat looked about.
“There’s not enough room for us all in this tub.”
So he slaughtered the two with a large butcher knife,
And enjoyed a candlelit rub-a-dub-dub.
Greg - yeah, if I were a baker I'd have cream filling running through my veins in place of blood.
A baker and an executioner? That's a delightfully different mix :)
Monica - haha, gruesomely perfect :)
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