Wayne G. Palmer
Waterbug's sundance 'pon lily pad floor,
twirling like Merlin while gathering spores,
naive to advances, a little green frog,
guilefully leaping o'er rushes and logs.
Then zap! - no more waterbug, snapped by a tongue,
what a woeful mind's startle to wide eyes so young. Upon the same lily the amphibian now sat,
soaking and croaking, quite jolly and fat,
I barely had time to digest and to smile,
when an adder came stealthily slithering in style.
Now swoosh! - no more frog, swallowed whole by the snake,
a cry from awed lips, to protect I forsake. So down from the fields came my dad like a bullet,
shrieking, but peeking, the serpent's stretched gullet,
Then thwack! - no more snake, jerked in half by a scythe,
his red eyes cold, spent, his tail still alive.
"Now who will slay us?" came my voice from beyond.
Thirty years hence I still sit by the pond.
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Comments about this poem (Pondering Price by Wayne G. Palmer )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(June 7, 1943)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
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