CXXXXVIII - The Farmer's Daughter

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This particular form is called a Terzanelle; I tried one once before.

The Farmer’s Daughter.

With patience few can understand
She does her time upon the farm
And waits her chance to work the land.

Working hard through storm and calm,
Even though she’s not a son,
She does her time upon the farm.

In her, the next harvest has begun.
She has a passion for the soil
Even though she’s not a son.

She works with love where others toil.
It’s clear to all who see her face,
She has a passion for the soil.

In her mind, the plan’s in place.
She knows the things that’s needing done;
It’s clear to all who see her face

Her destiny lies beneath the sun.
With patience few can understand,
She knows the things that’s needing done
And waits her chance to work the land.

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© J Cosmo Newbery
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CXXXXVII - No Joking!

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No joking!

On April the first
Our society’s cursed,
By people who love pulling pranks.
They happily install
Goofy jokes that appall
And wonder why we never say ‘thanks’.

This need to trick
Is really quite sick
And makes any sensible folk shiver.
In Australia, at least,
Their numbers decreased,
With the bodies now floating down river.

When they finally die
And ascend to the sky
To report for the Heavenly review,
Wouldn’t it be great
If the guy on the gate
Said “Sorry, this ticket’s for Hell. Adieu.”

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© J Cosmo Newbery
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