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A Big Bad Wolf

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A BIG BAD WOLF
Once upon a rhyme and time, 
Lived a wily wolf
Whose only thought,
Was to dine,
He looked greedy
And lean and a little mad,
And his yellow teeth
Looked very bad!
One day in the early morn,
He spotted a piece of red ribbon
That had been torn,
By a branch in the icy snow,  
And footprints that did
Clearly show,
That lunch could be nigh
He salivated, 
The wolf relied on his eager eye!
His greedy intent,
Was growing
As the wolf smelt
A familiar scent.
Unaware of the danger
Of this creepy
Creature,
Whose cunningness, was 
A reputed feature,
The little girl with a red hat
And cape,
Skipped through the woods,
Ignoring
A persistent shadowy shape!
She skipped so much
She was in a dizzy whirl,
At this point the wolf overtook
Her with speed and a swirl.
She continued skipping
Through the woods,
And the snow covered trees, 
And was glad she had brought
Ointment for her granny’s knees.
She knocked on her granny’s door
Door and heard,
A loud noise,
“Come in dear”  said 
A very strange voice.
The little girl placed her basket 
Next to her granny’s bed 
And bent to stir
The fire of amber and wood,
But her granny looked angry, 
Ugly and mean,
And had lost a lot of weight 
And looked pretty lean,
Her teeth looked too sharp 
And her eyes too big,
And granny looked as if she
Was wearing a wig!
The little girl then noticed
The size of her snout,
This is not right, she thought,
This is not granny,
She is nowhere about!
For unknown to this girl
Dressed in red,
The wolf had devoured granny,
Rather uncanny!
Now very frightened, 
She ran straight out,
Screamed for help, it was near,
Lumberjacks came 
To her rescue ,
And told her not to fear.
The lumberjacks therefore have 
Ended this rhythm,
As they caught the wolf,
And shortened his life and time!
They returned the little girl to 
Her home,
And advised, her parents
To not let her roam
For the woods held 
Many a hungry pest,
And rather she was never 
Again put to the test!
However, this story carries on.
The lumber man had a young son,
Who knew this pretty little girl,
Who was always in a spin or whirl.
She grew up and became
An aesthetic sight
And if truth be told, had won the
The heart of the lumberman’s
Son with a fearsome might,
Which she knew of none!
She moved to the big city,
 To secure a job,
The young man followed her, 
He didn’t
Want her to ever sob,
He feared that being so 
So pretty she could
Become a statistic of pity,                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         
For there were many two legged 
Wolves in the city!
He accidentally bumped into her 
One Afternoon,
She recognized him and was glad, 
And very soon,
They bridged the gap between
The past and the present
Went to the chapel
And were wed
She wore her favorite red,
And had no dread,
For her husband was near,
No creepy persistent shape,
To follow her red cap and cape!

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




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Date: 9/27/2018 7:58:00 PM
I liked the entire poem, but for some odd reason, this line in particular grabbed both my muse Trixie and I and sailed us into a laughing spasm. "For there were many two legged wolves in the city!" So nicely written, Jennifer!
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Jennifer Proxenos
Date: 9/28/2018 11:46:00 AM
Hi Caren, Thank-you so much! Enjoy writing fantasy, but I try to add a moral to the story. So glad you enjoyed my poem. xoxo Jennifer.
Date: 9/25/2018 7:21:00 AM
I enjoyed this, something you could read to your children before sleep time. You should think about writing short children's stories. Kim
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Jennifer Proxenos
Date: 9/25/2018 8:13:00 AM
Hi Kim, So I'm told. its just trying to juggle business, poetry and then stories? I'm very happy you are enjoying my poetry. xoxo Jenny.
Date: 9/20/2018 9:26:00 PM
Wow! Time for you to write bedtime stories! Aloha! Rico
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Jennifer Proxenos
Date: 9/21/2018 7:21:00 AM
Hi Rico, I think you are right! I think all of us adults has a bit of a child left in them. Yasou! Jennifer

Book: Reflection on the Important Things