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[personal profile] goldvermilion87
Some of my creative writing was inspired by my own fevered brain.  Some of my creative writing was inspired by a desire to get an "A" on an assignment.  This poem falls into the latter category.   I bet you can't guess what the assignment was:


Mr. Bumble

 
’Twas morning, and the slimy toad

Did jump and frolic in the lake.

The merry children on the road

Attempted, each other to o’ertake.

 [editor's note:  I was uncomfortable with the idea of non-centered poetry at that point in my life]

Beware the Bumble-Bee, my son!

The razor sting; the noisy flight.

Beware the wasps and start to run

If one on you should dare alight.

 

He took his bug net in his hand.

A long time for hives he did search.

He leaned against a tall tree, and

He saw a strange shape in the birch.

 

As for a while he stared and stared,

The Bumble-Bee, with shining blade,

Came zipping for’d. Its teeth were bared!

As it rushed straight through the dark’ning glade

 

The net was raised. The arms were tense.

The bug came near, and down it fell.

The insect writhed inside its fence

For to its heart came the sharp death knell.

 

“Hast thou caught the Bumble-Bee?”

“Come, come straight to me,” I say.

My heart is overfilled with glee.

“In the freezer? Yes, you may.”

 

’Twas morning and the slimy toad

Did jump and frolic in the lake.

The merry children on the road,

Attempted, each other to o’er take


I don't know if I got an A.  I'm guessing so, because teachers are nice when it comes to creative writing.  Well, my teacher was.

 

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