I wrote this poem a couple of years ago when I was growing a garden from seed. I try to do that because it is less expensive than buying all of the plants at a nursery. That year I could not keep anything alive and it seemed that some type of insect was always eating all of the leaves of all of my plants or they would turn brown. I actually grew this radish! I believe I had 3 altogether… oh well!
The plight of blight
Maybe I can lightly say, ‘no,’
to you my bug to spreading your blight because that isn’t polite.
How you so lightly spread your disease
of blight during flight.
If you could only say good night
to this day of giving I might
forgive you of your indiscretion on your part. Wouldn’t I like to have my opinion about your impartation
to me, it’s not an abbreviation.
Oh woah! I hate thee and your yes because I say, ‘no’ to your blow
of flesh in Misery.
Again, you have no regard for my woe
and my plight during your flight
and you’re ill given blight.
Leave my whole country alone
you and your hatred hidden by your repose. Oh, your countenance does not betray you.
Maybe I can woo you into a nest of butterflies and they could butter your…wings
and then I can tie you up
And have some sup.
The diaries of a spider and her fly by Margaret Leora Workman; Warponie Art
This poem is printed on brown paper onto cardboard and listed on EBay under my account pinetr_5611
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