While her garden plants she pruned
Often unrestrainedly crooned:
Come her much loved month of June,
Mostly, when it far noon...
You hear her when rules The Moon
Or if Summer should be soon
Peaceful voice that feeds like spoon;
She had long mastered Gay Tune,
As Deserts had Sand Dunes
And a War Theatre Bombs ruins
The voice that feeds A Boon
Ears that it despise A Loon.
Growing are the grumbles
By a Gathering of Humbles:
A skyrocketing effort to change an unchanging Dinah,
In figures, now closely chasing the population of China:
The grumbles, a fast succeeding siege against the judge
Now set to hit Justice where it hurts…
The earlier mumbles a saintly grudge
Whose holder unrestrainedly blurts.
A wig is helping an untiring lawbreaker,
Scheming to the wrong guy dump in rancorous jail;
One hell of a faking hostage taker
Juggling with sacred laws and trying to not fail!
Now, it’s an uncannily crappy proceeding,
All the jurors alive to the misleading:
The not guilty to soon watch the outside world from Dark Keyhole
The veritable Child of Judicial Remote Control.
Now, the grumbles are preaching
A second long look at the interpreter,
The earlier mumbles alleging a bewitching
Of the chosen typewriter;
The mumbles also cocksure of a garage
Groaning under the weight of new Toyota Cams
The grumbles amplifying to barrage
Judge’s recent receipts of Justice-perverting big yams.
Not bringing along my tool
Has me made a fool:
A gross violator of workers’ first rule,
A copyist of the stubborn mule
And one to again lend time to some school…
And here I am, seated, “Very Cool”,
Unrestrainedly gazing at a purplish pool,
Though I’d deserved all but a viewing stool.
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