A Tile Poem by Marilyn Shepperson
A Tile
There is a tile on the roof of the garage
That seems to prefer to be on the ground
Three times the man has been to fix it
Yet if the wind blows more than a puff
It ends up face down in the mud
I know a tile is an inanimate object
A thing carved from local slate quarries
So, does this one possess a mind of its' own
Or is it, perhaps, just haunted?
Marilyn>>>An witty & entertaining write, young lady....Didded deeply in cleverity! FJR
Either the roofer fancies you, or your cheques keep bouncing! Best wishes :) jack.
If not haunted, perhaps trouble with spirits. It may have had one over the slate? Danny
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 7:06:40 PM # 1.0.0.1119
The tile is really kind of like a ghost as you put it here. I like the way you ended the poem in this one.