Emile Pinet Poet Verse

Notes About The Poem

Posie

Rhyme pattern (looks good centered, but that is optional)

01- a- 8 syllables
02- b- 8 syllables
03- a- 8 syllables
04- b- 8 syllables
05- c- 4 syllables
06- c- 4 syllables

07- a- 8 syllables
08- b- 8 syllables
09- a- 8 syllables
10- b- 8 syllables
11- d- 4 syllables
12- d- 4 syllables

It Tastes Divine

Dad dug some clams when I was eight, 
to boil alive, to my chagrin
I heaved, contemplating their fate.
Oh, What the hell, just toss one in
he scolded me,
you can't beat free.

Dad assured me it'd taste great
but it looked like guts with no skin,
and doubtful, I stared at my plate.
Slurp it up, he said with a grin.
Gritty with sand,
it tasted bland.

I made a face at my first taste,
and my dad struggled not to laugh.
I knew he didn't like to waste,
so I gave him my other half.
Please finish mine,
it tastes divine.

It left a bitter aftertaste
and yet, I lied on my behalf,
sounding insincere in my haste.
It would have failed a polygraph
if dad had one,
but I was done.


(Posie)


8/29/2018

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Line Gauthier August 29, 2018 at 7:44 PM Very charming, Emile. Your humor is so sweet. Written with finesse. Very much enjoyed. Emile Pinet August 30, 2018 at 7:24 AM Thanks Line, I appreciate your support my friend, Emile.