Pondering Price

Poem By Wayne G. Palmer

Waterbug's sundance 'pon lily pad floor,
twirling like Merlin while gathering spores,
naive to advances, a little green frog,
guilefully leaping o'er rushes and logs.
Then zap! - no more waterbug, snapped by a tongue,
what a woeful mind's startle to wide eyes so young. Upon the same lily the amphibian now sat,
soaking and croaking, quite jolly and fat,
I barely had time to digest and to smile,
when an adder came stealthily slithering in style.
Now swoosh! - no more frog, swallowed whole by the snake,
a cry from awed lips, to protect I forsake. So down from the fields came my dad like a bullet,
shrieking, but peeking, the serpent's stretched gullet,
Then thwack! - no more snake, jerked in half by a scythe,
his red eyes cold, spent, his tail still alive.
"Now who will slay us?" came my voice from beyond.
Thirty years hence I still sit by the pond.

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An alabaster morning,
Shy eye coquettish o'er treetops tipped gold,
Painting the mind with your peerless panorama,
Flipping your coin high to radiant chance,

Pesky Little Sins

In bibles tall like rubber balls in flight,
Where rules like jewels transfix our wandering eyes,
We lock away our disarray from sight,
Then drool like fools with sweaty palms and sighs. A stolen watch, a swollen crotch, what shame!