of PRETTY THINGS
one day he drew a garden
while sitting on his patio beneath an umbrella
green as an apple
writhing about the stones near his petunias
took his wooded brush
and set out to smite thy slithering foe
"Back from my garden!
Back or I will set my dogs upon you!"
and so he did...
set out upon his fate
to ravage and scourge the garden
did approach the premise
with a heart full of anger and disdain
the figure of a painter
lunging 'neath the afternoon sun
place its death-like fangs
in thou painter's fleshy thigh
and the poison did spread...
did come to his master's aide
panting and rampaging among the flowers
"Arf arf arf arf
Arf arf arf arf arf arf arf arf arf!"
and did the snake retreat
inflected with grevious and mortal wounds
receive his caretaker's praise
in thy master's final moments of life.
and his master did die...
a poem written collaboratively with my friend. enjoy.