I remember as a child
Playing on the lawn
How once I caught a wild
Bird to be my pawn
On the painted
chessboard
With seven missing
pieces
Allegedly pilfered by
Lord
Fortesque's young
nieces.
One of them tapped the
bird
With one intrepid toe
Shrank back without
a word
Brought the other
girl to show
The gruesome thing to
Half dead, it couldn't
sing to
Them or else wise entertain 'em
Until a game of
badminton
Became their jeu du jour
Well played.
ReplyDeleteChildhood: A time to discover our own monstrosity.
Adulthood: A time to deny it.
Oh my.
ReplyDeleteThe sprightly nature of the verse in juxtaposition to the cruelty therein. Well played, my dear. Well played.