Polly Astley
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Polly Astley loved to have visitors, for she loved piquant, plum people;
Like counting stars when we were young, in milky moonlight, peaceful.
Her days were spent teaching children, with faces perky as sunflowers,
When redbirds danced in jade treetops, viewed by folk on lunch hours.
Polly loved the parties and get togethers, that she frequently attended;
Like red rhododendron and rose revelry, in scented gardens, extended.
Sukey Sykes was Polly's friend, and also roommate, sharing expenses;
As rainbow colors must work together, to make an entirety so precious.
Other friends were forever flying fast, upon frisky, fleet horses to visit,
When factual, flouted, fancy fall, called forth its colorful, phantom spirit.
Family came with flowers and fanfare, beneath appreciative, fiery stars,
With unfailing motherly and fatherly love, like the fuchsia, butterfly chaos.
Polly lived in the house of pink, daisy sun, like the twilight of an evening,
When all the natural world is sighing, and the day takes on new meaning.
Sacred sunup-yellow songbirds, were spotted, in Polly and Sukey's street,
Of slow days, shaping silvery seasons, as a sculptor molds artistic treats.
Nearer neighbors came to visit, amid nameless nomad, Newcastle nights;
As frosty, newborn stars glittered redly, in the pearl nights of moon rites.
'Dusky, ruby' plants were sparkling, when dotty aloe vera was very useful;
And 'lovely lavender' awaited a matched sunset, though somewhat rueful.
'Gold treasure' flowers were being hoarded, as the pink water lilies swam;
And black-eyed Susan batted long lashes, in warm summer days, so glam.
Polly and Sukey were planning a get together, to be held in their backyard;
And they would have a fun barbecue with friends, like sunny, abstract art!
The preparations were fresh fun! It could be the event of the galactic year,
In a season of fantastic fluffy flowers, when pinks, reds and greens appear!
On the day of the peachy party, pretty Polly made tea for guests, due soon;
But, a thunderstorm broke once she had, just as jade spring broke with June.
Disappointed at deep delight deferred, Sukey turned off the fragrant kettle;
That would whistle happily on another day. Like grape sun falls, with mettle!
'Polly, put the kettle on,
Polly, put the kettle on,
Polly, put the kettle on,
We'll all have tea.
Sukey, take it off again,
Sukey, take it off again,
Sukey, take it off again,
They've all gone away.'
Copyright © Evelyn Judy Buehler | Year Posted 2024
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