Moon Over Thunderbox
Moon over Thunderbox
The moon shines bright on the thunderbox tonight,
Little Charlie raced down and jerked open the door,
Something big and bright almost bloody white
A horror that he almost bloody saw,
Messed his pants upon the plurry floor.
Phenyl, was the smell, have a sniff you can tell,
The ghost was looking out the door,
The screams of Charlie B,
brought the Police a running see,
To arrest a sheep, a hanging all he saw,
In the great Depression time,
It was not seen as, never crime,
To steal a sheep, more for mostly poor,
Being now, paid for the time,
For the unpaid work, crime,
Balance the books,
a sheep to eat, for bloody sure!
Don Johnson 29-aug-11
Waltzing Matilda said sure,
lamb chops came through my door,
Drovers delivered full sheep through the winder,
a cooking at daylight, liver and chops and eggs under fat,
cooked on the old wood stove once more:)
Copyright © Don Johnson | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment