By the wayside, I saw a leafless, lifeless twig;
Useless, so it seemed, slashed off from its tree--a fig.
Luckily, I have a small front yard garden, too.
With plants bursting in bloom, acrostics quite a few;
Aha, a timely prop, this stick could surely be!
Rhyming acrostics in my book, the world should see,
Kept proud and unbowed by a dead twig from a tree.
Someday when I'm dead, will my 'stics be props? Maybe...
No comments:
Post a Comment