To those who read this, these poems were thought up while writing my other comedy Childhood.
Vezon, Who poked things with sticks and was in turn poked back
Vezon was a nutty lad,
And while he wasn’t really bad,
He had a most childish tick,
He liked to poke things with a stick.
If perchance his eyes would spy,
On anything that he thought fly,
He’d give it a most lively poke,
What a balmy little bloke!
Vezon once walked down a road,
And he came upon a toad,
He poked it on its bumpy back,
And it hopped off while saying ‘Gack!’
Vezon was down at the store,
He wasn’t there long before,
He poked a cart of fresh tomatoes,
Which tipped onto the new potatoes.
Vezon continued on his way,
For there were still hours of the day,
He went over to his neighbor’s place,
And slipped inside without a trace.
Vezon saw a lovely vase,
Which sat atop a splendid case,
He reached out with the dreaded stick,
He poked the vase, which promptly tipped.
Not looking at the broken shards,
Vezon went into the yard,
And there he saw a stack of bricks,
Which needed poking with his stick.
He felled them with a gentle touch,
It really didn’t take that much,
And then Vezon was on his way,
For now he really couldn’t stay.
Vezon went to the wildwood,
Feeling that his day was good,
He walked among the massive trees,
And smiled as he felt the breeze.
Vezon looked, his eyes aglow,
At all the wildwood had to show,
So many rocks, so many trees,
Things that he could poke with ease.
But then Vezon looked down and found,
A rattlesnake coiled on the ground,
Vezon grinned, the snake it froze,
And Vezon poked it in the nose.
The snake was mad, and rightly so,
And thus bit Vezon on the toe,
Vezon yelped with pain and fright,
He didn’t live to see the night.
Edited by spyder ryder, Oct 16 2011 - 08:17 PM.