photo/ willow/ magpie tales
JACK AND ME
Jack fell down.
I slipped and started to roll.
Over and over I went,
gravity showing no mercy,
nothing in my way to stop me.
I felt the crunch of October's leaves,
wintry reds and gray yellows
glossy with dew,
not softening my path,
but affixing themselves
like postage stamps,
poking my battered front and rear.
I gained thrust like a mythical goddess,
then felt a sharp pain
as I rolled over that broken crown
tumbling before me,
as if some wizard
had animated it
to mock me,
and win a race
to the bottom of the hill.
Pay attention
to what I say,
never go looking for water
at the top of a mountain
with a drunken monarch.
c copyright/all rights reserved/2010
This poem is in response to yet another terrific Prompt by Willow at Magpie Tales..who can resist..not many, for sure!!
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