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Open Poetry #28
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MorninGlory
Member
since 2003-08-30
Posts 175
Oklahoma

0 posted 2003-09-16 11:51 PM


~

There was a girl with long black curls, her name was Fonda Dunne,
Quite the artist Fonda was, a rather talented one.
She’d draw and color pictures ‘til the cows came home at night,
And for a second grader, well, they were really quite a sight.

I might have been a little jealous, maybe quite a lot,
but I could draw a little , heck,she wasn’t all that hot!
Then mama had a baby, and Ms. Nance asked us to draw
Some pictures for the baby, well that was just the last straw.

I saw her hovered at her desk, those crayons moved like mad,
she’d cover up her work to hide it with her other hand.
And then when she was done, she held it up for all to see,
Her masterpiece, her work of art, she’d made for the baby.

‘Its just a stupid clown,’ I said, ‘anybody could draw that,’
I’d drawn some trees and flowers, and in the corner, a big cat.
I sure did love that clown she’d made, but never told a soul,
I wished that I could draw like her with hair as black as coal.

Well, I got past that well enough, and left that girl alone,
but she just couldn’t let it lie, she’d always pick a bone.
But then one day she went too far, she’d pestered me enough,
And that was when she saw I was no mere marshmallow fluff.

Now, me, I was just minding my own, sittin’ there in my chair,
The teacher, she had left the room, was called out to somewhere.
Well, Fonda, she was pesterin’ and thought it was real funny.
I’d tell her ‘quit!’ but she just wouldn’t, not for love nor money.

Now, that black hair was long alright, all slicked back in a pony,
I looked at her, all serious, and said, ‘now listen, honey,
If you don’t get away from me and get out of my face,
I’ll get that pony, yes I will, I’ll put you in your place.’

She whooped and hollered, yelled and squealed, daring me to try
To take that pony away from her, just begging me, that’s why
I went up to the teacher’s desk, and looked in her lap drawer,
I got the teacher’s scissors, then nailed Fonda to the floor.

I grabbed hold of that pony sittin’ high up on her head,
I cut that pony off so fast, she screamed, ‘oh no, I’m dead!’
‘you’re not dead, you little pest, you’re only bald, ‘ I said,
‘now maybe you’ll leave me alone, bug someone else instead.’

I guess you know the import of this act of treachery,
my cutting of the sacred hair will live in infamy,
My sentence wasn’t serious, as I was only seven,
but Fonda looked quite different, her head almost clean-shaven.

I guess I was a horrid child, but I’d felt justified,
I’d warned her more than once, oh, God knows how much I tried.
Of course, I feel just awful as I ponder on my deed,
such a pill I was in second grade, on that we’re all agreed.

~.~


[This message has been edited by MorninGlory (09-17-2003 03:45 AM).]

© Copyright 2003 MorninGlory - All Rights Reserved
angelblueyes
Member Elite
since 2003-07-19
Posts 2148
Oklahoma
1 posted 2003-09-16 11:57 PM


You know we all have things we aren't proud of but in that instant your heart had a reasoning, even if it wasn't the best.I enjyed this.
Crystal

MorninGlory
Member
since 2003-08-30
Posts 175
Oklahoma
2 posted 2003-09-17 12:01 PM


Well I felt justified I guess, but her hair had never been cut in her life.. I look back on that now and can't believe I did that. I have no idea what happened to her.. and am afraid to cross her now! ha ha  Thank you for the comment!

~ becky

EvocativeVerse2
Senior Member
since 2003-09-10
Posts 1279

3 posted 2003-09-17 11:03 AM


ROFLMAO! (Rolling on floor laughing my a$$ off!) Love it Becky. This is great. Damn you tell some really great tales in your poetry. Each one is a treasure. Keep it up!
QjQ
Member Elite
since 2003-04-18
Posts 3756
U.S.A.
4 posted 2003-09-18 11:45 AM


terrific,,,,

                                

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