Yew - Potd
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Sponsored by: Constance La France
Written on August 16, 2023
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We buried him under the large yew tree,
We all wore thick face masks as they should be.
The shade of the green yew tree was pleasant.
Yet we all knew the poison there present.
It was not his wish to bury him there.
He died under the tree eating a pear.
Little bothering about deadly fumes
His mind elsewhere humming her loving tunes.
The yew yielded a deadly red berry,
Fell on the white pear, tasted like cherry.
They spied him there, dead, under the yew tree.
All left to enjoy the breath of the sea.
Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2023
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