This is my 5 Ws poem. However, I didn't go strictly by the exact order because it didn't work that way. If you want to learn the order, go here. Otherwise, my kilt poem:
KILT KILT
Granny once went to Scotland fair
When the world was young and bare
She asked me what she could buy me there
Hoping candy would be my fare
"A Kilt!" I said with a great deal of care
When at last my gran came home
Never to Scotland again to roam
She gave me a doll. Said "Hair to comb!
Kilts were $100 a foot, you gnome!
Next time just ask for a finger of foam."
And so I lit instead on another path
To earning my kilt, instead of wrath
Became my clan's editor-in-chief I hath
With words I won my kilt plus math
Because $900 bucks plus is completely daft
©2022 by H. Linn Murphy
Here's my other poem for today:
THE HIGHLANDER'S LAMENT (written as Johnny McKusick)
(A titch naughty but inspired by the Great Moth Influx of '22--a horribly real occurrence)
My kilt has been chomped by a moth
There are teacup-sized holes in the cloth
The holes there and there
Causing lassies to stare
I canna just ignore them both.
I might have to cut them away
But then too little fabric will stay
It'd be a tight skirt
Covered up by a shirt
I'd have no cloth leftover to play
At one hundred bucks a foot
I don't have the dollars to boot
On the front there's a patch
And the back has a match
I no longer my bagpipes will toot
For sporrans in front give a cheer
But for patches things might appear
I'm happy to say
By the end of the day
I've had plenty of offers for beer
So if you should find it's your lot
That moths hole your kilt like a pot
Better take heart and mind
And a lassy you find
Who treasures what jewels (and patches) you've got!
©2022 by H. Linn Murphy
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