The exercise:
Write a four line poem about: Icarus.
Today's topic inspired by this song, which I discovered during a recent click-along adventure on YouTube (hey that song looks interesting... hey, so does that one... and that one...).
With some help from a friend's brother, we got quite a bit of good work done today. Finally made a dent in all the work we need to do with the strawberries, plus I got him to finish some other tasks that I had no real interest in doing myself.
Money well spent, I reckon.
Mine:
Blessed with the gift of wings,
He set off to see things
From a whole new point of view...
But forgot his parachute.
2 comments:
Your poor Icarus!
Icarus
They say pride comes before a fall,
And Icarus was proud'st of all.
He soared to reach the golden sun,
...and then he turned his jetpack on.
Greg - indeed. Apparently he should have foregone the parachute in favor of a jetpack!
Also: your opening line makes me want to write one that involves a fellow named Pride...
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