IMAGINARY GARDEN
asks us to filch words from Shakespeare and continue with our own.
(I have used the first line of Sonnet 17.)
WHO?
(A Sonnet)
Who will believe my verse in time to come,
Or even care to read it any more?
My sentiments will be ludicrous to some,
And reading them a quite abysmal chore.
Ephemeral, this writing on a blog;
A 'here today and gone tomorrow' thing.
My poor old Muse, whose hide I daily flog,
Has only just one day to have a fling.
The moving finger taps, then presses 'Click',
The words fly off into the who-knows-where.
And every little verbal party-trick
We hoped that half the world would want to share
Has disappeared, like all our yesterdays,
With only 'comments' to enjoy as praise.
*
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CROP DUSTING
(An Acrostic)
Caution! Chemicals in the air!
Release your cargo with great care!
Over the fields the 'duster' flies
Preventing 'nasties' from the skies.
*
Doubtless we're needing such prevention.
Unwelcome diseases need intervention.
Still, we shudder at the thought
That chemicals of a lethal sort
If released on the open air
Noxiously settle everywhere.
Go carefully with your killing dust
Only releasing it where you must!
*
