(Note: You may wish to read, “(Wilbur's gonna get me/you! ” First.)
Wilbur’s got a little friend
He has a fishing rod
He’s Wilbur’s half-scale clone you see
And he thinks Wilbur’s God.
He doesn’t see his weathered sheen
nor yet his frost cracked legs.
Iced water, gotta terracotta
smashed up, just like eggs.
Thus Wilbur’s hunting nights have passed
He waits there, by the pond
His half-scale clone brings home the prey
This pair, with devilish bond
We fear to give this thing a name
My daughter and I are vexed.
My wife’s obsession with evil gnomes
We don’t know who will be next!
She laughs it off, with a jeer and a scoff
Insisting, it doesn’t matter.
Well why have all next door’s pets disappeared
Whilst Wilbur and co, seem fatter?
I read them both- -and they're great! Very glad you included a pic at the end, as my imagination was way off. You are a great story-teller and I enjoyed every line.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You never like that neighbor's cat, anyway, right? Good stuff, perfect timing for Halloween! Cheers! -Chuck