A Tortoise
At the height of the merrimentWhen the moments leave presented
The apprentice sat down with the master
Of delightful mirth and listened as
She heard a tale of tortoises and how
They cannot be sandwiched or available
To rats as they slumber.
So much for hibernation.
Still the seat was in this place...gently swaying...
Jasmine scented amid a hundred greens abounded.
Midst these people who adore being alive
She heard the horror story and stored it
In a corner.
Poetry by jenks
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Written on 2012-04-10 at 00:23
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Lawrence Beck |
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