In Ravenscourt Park there was an old man
Who lived in an alabaster cave
Each morning he’d eat Bitterness on Toast
Then for work he would leave
With his glass jar tucked under his arm
Hobbling through the streets
Waiting for the moment tension would strike
To gather his bittersweet treat
Throughout the day he’d fill his jar
Revelling in its growing weight
Daydreaming the joy of getting home
To eat his sandwich filled with hate
To sit at the table with his favourite plate
And fill his belly full of misery
Then off to bed he’d take himself
Where he would dream of history
The dreams weren’t much different
From the days that he had
Except for the ring on his finger
And the smile that greeted him at the door
But the bitterness it did linger
While he ate his sandwich filled with hate
His wife ate strawberry jam
Too sweet was the taste of her lips
It angered the little old man
Night after night he’d dream of those lips
A never ending cycle of torment
Waking up to the brim with anxiety
Ready for a day of resentment
Category: Fruit
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“Rabbit! Rabbit! Goose! Goose!”
Wailed the man from his hoose
Gone hopped the rabbit
Off waddled the goose
Into the forest
They got loose
Cried! He cried!
For his goose!
The man exclaimed
“I’ve got no juice”
The rabbit returned
Red faced and sweaty
Chased by a zebra
From the Serengeti
The zebra stopped
Saw the man
Returned to the forest to make a plan
To steal his house
And live their himself
Put all his trophies on a shelf
All the rabbits, all the geese
He stuffed himself
Full of peace
At the thought of his new future as a man
The zebra thought it was a cunning plan. -
How lucky we are to be loved
By a mother who has such strength
She watches us destroy her body
Yet still bears fruit for our fists to clench
She brings the water to our mouths
And doesn’t flinch when we spit
We kill all her children
Yet she holds our fire delicately lit
How she encourages us to grow
Leading by example
Displaying her grace
As we continue to trample
Her guidance ignored
As our greedy hands grow
Mother will soon punish us
Do you want it to be so? -
There was a little Strawberry
Hanging on a bush
It was so red and juicy
Then one day whooosh
A giant hand came and grabbed her
And placed her in a cave
Then crushed her little body
With her cousin Dave
Sin Agua Poetry Blog 