Larry Bradfield Poet Rhyme

Black Powder

When the king had called for counsel
And the peasants had called his bluff
The wise man scratched his greying head
And the fools had cried out "Enough"

The choices seemed to be but few
And the chooser was yet unknown
Players split about even sides
Between honey and granite stone

Would names be chiseled on a wall
Or written on invitations
The wise man scratched his head again
As he asked his God for patience

And then the crowd began to form
As voices grew shrill and louder
It became a simple choice of 
Brotherly love or black powder

11-8-18
For Contest Black Powder for Anthony Slausen

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Carole Duet November 20, 2018 at 5:16 PM What an intriguing poem! I love the ending. Larry Bradfield November 20, 2018 at 10:08 PM Thank you, Carole. You made my day. I was afraid no one liked it but me! It's random thoughts about the caravan crossing Mexico from Honduras and aimed at entering this country.