Today it's going to be a Royal Rhyme, a form of septet. I know. I had no idea either. So I went here. Then I came back and wrote this:
The Battle Royale
No one wakes the badger up
Unless they want a fight
Not he, his wife, nor any pup
Or risk a vicious badger bite
Lions, cobras, feel his might
Also hippos, humans, and the bees
If you try and capture him he flees
The honey badger is a pro
At getting out of places
He uses rock or mud or hoe
And flaunts it in our faces
To make his escape he races
To fetch his favorite honey
On his success I would bet money
©2021 by H. Linn Murphy
I wrote this second one as a freestyle poem--sort of an answer to yesterday's Claw poem.
THE AFTERMATH
The Claw came not yesterday
They must have been busy
I should have gone over to
Gather the things
I wanted to liberate.
But sometime in the night,
The metal fairies came
And took the items
For which I'd shopped but not
Taken away
Except for the glass
Because none of us
Could get the screws out.
Now I hear the scrape of the claw
It's jaws devouring
All in its path
Hungrily chomping into
The broken and forgotten
Couches and shelves
Chairs and lives
Messy eater, The Claw
It leaves behind
The little things
Like screws and splinters
And things the owners
Can clean up themselves.
Things we should have
Taken care of
But were too busy
Or lazy
Or overcome
To fix.
Those things
The Claw leaves
For second chances.
Every year I vow again
To beat The Claw
To the good stuff
And every year
I let what people think
Effect the way I act.
Someday soon,
I'll stop being embarrassed
For finding new ways
To value old things
Others have not 'seen.'
Instead of watching
The Claw devour them.
Someday soon
I will be the one
Reaching down
To liberate the unwanted
Because of the potential
I see in their hearts.
Someday.
©2021 by H. Linn Murphy
No comments:
Post a Comment