Activity

Hey, guys! Lately, I’ve been experimenting with some silly poetry. (It’s sort of half bad poetry, half good poetry…I’m not sure how to explain it). I’m interested in your opinons. 😉

ALSO, if any of y’all have been writing silly poetry, showcase it on this thread! Weirdness and silliness are welcome!!

@dekreel @libby @dakota @evelyn @kb-writer @e_elaine_soup5 @sir-leeds @andrew

 

A Tragic Tale or

George McMearly’s Rooster

 

There once was a man,

A Scot hailed George McMearly,

And he had a pet rooster,

Whom he loved dearly.

 

In the night, when the rooster

Perched on George’s bed,

Cardinal comb sagged on his breast,

All bad dreams fled.

 

When light kissed the rooftops,

The rooster dashed out his doggy door,

And mounted on the rusty rail,

Letting his vocal range soar.

 

The neighborhood would rouse

After the rooster’s first stirring notes,

Then George would stumble out

To feed his cows and his goats.

 

Breakfast between these two

Was a never a pompous affair;

George was fond of cornflakes,

And the rooster spilled them everywhere.

 

George was never angry

With his noisy, clumsy rooster;

George had his own flaws,

Like neglecting to clean the juicer.

 

Their life was paradise:

Companionship at its best.

But when George’s rooster fell ill,

Their life became filled with unrest.

 

Tending at the rooster’s bedside,

George would never leave.

When the rooster’s tail began to droop,

George sobbed into his sleeve.

 

At long last, the rooster lay still

With foggy, unseeing eyes,

And though George had tried everything,

He knew his rooster had died.

 

After that dire day,

George dug a tiny grave.

Weeping, he buried the body

That he wished he could have saved.

 

And now every morning by the rail,

As first light appears above,

George McMearly plays his bagpipes,

In honor of his rooster, whom he loved.