Beware of Trouble Incensed

Trouble left alone hurts no soul Endowed with enough wisdom To score no own goal When trouble turns vicious in the kingdom Where trouble finger on the trigger of his machinegun Slays intruders by the dozen If wisdom devices from them run Towards the avenger denizen Who enjoys a repose by the busy bus He drives at leisure Eliciting from no intruder a fuss That halts the flow of the pleasure Trouble sips like a well-chilled red wine glass To his heart’s content Until a misguided lass of little class Brews for trouble vats of discontent Catalyzing him to erupt like the angriest Hawaian volcano Spewing noxious Sulphur gases In an inferno That incinerates flower and tinder dry vases To teach a salutary lesson To learners willing enough to take heed Of timely advice from the wise person Who readily plants and germinates the wisdom seed Whose fruit Nourishes The recruit Who dishes Out love to meddlers Enjoining them to treat trouble with the respect he deserves From finicky fiddlers Who trespass on trouble’s preserves and reserves.