lickety jackblog

Friday Morning Festival of Sorrow

My Ailing Backyard

My ailing backyard's full
of Slugs
and Bugs
that rip and shred the grass.
So fast that I cannot
Protect,
Thus wrecked.
My lawn could not long last.

So shrewd these scoundrel beasts
Destroy,
Employ
Their fangs for havoc wrought.
I sought solutions for
This ill.
To kill
These creatures, poison bought.

I widely spread these grains
of death
the breadth
And length of my fair lawn.
Those Spawn! Ate not my fell
death feast!
At least,
I thought, they've left, they're gone.

But they'd not left my grass
and rain
spread bane
Of grass, my poison grains
became a deadly foe
malaise
pale haze
Of death, my lawn complains.

And now my yard has passed
in to
the dew
of fallen lawn remorse.
Of course, if I'd been wise,
surmised
the guise
of its downfall's foul source

Mayhaps I could have saved
the day.
Its gay
Green beauty has been lost.
What cost paid I! My wrongs
Have killed
and Spilled
Its blood. To fate, I'm tossed.



couple things. What's with that picture at the top of this page? What is this crap? Why isn't that lion cub mauling that child? And why isn't the wolf's muzzle drenched and red with the glistening and innocent blood of that defenseless lamb? What horsehockey!

Also...I demand more atrocities in the hall. haven't you jackbarn chumps seen anything gross lately?

sincerely,
"delightful" dan pribble

posted by dan @ 9:48 AM