Pat Adams Poet Quatrain

Doing Duties

Brisk winter air has settled in
I venture into my back yard
Grab a rake and pile up leaves
To be burned, with disregard

As I set torch to said fallen
I reflect on a job well done
Something assuredly needed
Now who's the responsible one?

Holiday spirit surrounds me
Bundled up in my attire
I feel the warmth, I see the glow
Oh no! My pants are on fire!

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Lindsay Laurie December 20, 2019 at 6:11 PM G'day PAT … I'm laughed over your poem because a similar incident actually happened here. A Dad was burning tussock clumps one by one and his kids tried to help but they had surrounded Dad with fires. All ended well after the panic subsided - thanks PAT - Lindsay Pat Adams December 23, 2019 at 4:18 PM Purely fiction here but of course completely possible!....Thanks for commenting Lindsay!.......pat

Maureen McGreavy Pigeon Tart December 18, 2019 at 10:05 PM LOL! Cute one Pat! ;))) xomo! Pat Adams December 19, 2019 at 7:08 AM Thank you Maureen! I don't mind my poems being called cute! (In a husky manly man sort of way).....80)

Michelle Faulkner December 18, 2019 at 6:26 PM Very droll, Pat, I hope your pants are on the mend! (so to speak) Pat Adams December 19, 2019 at 7:07 AM They would be my imaginary pants, so they are cool!! Thanks for commenting. I'm hoping droll is something on the good side. Not really sure about that one!.......80)

Gershon Wolf December 18, 2019 at 3:50 PM Hab, ha! Pat, you really had me walking right down the proverbial 'garden path' -- 'till I met up with that last line! Love it! :) gw Pat Adams December 19, 2019 at 7:05 AM Thanks Gershon, glad you liked it......80)