Killing time
Killing time,
I looked up to see
Local Man
Stealthily regarding me.
Well, actually,
Matter of fact,
It was a flower...
In a pot.
But it possessed the same animation,
Hence the confusion.
Erm... A lack of ears,
And bright blooms,
Soon clarified the situation
Distinguishing former from latter;
I.e. Local Man from Flora.
That done,
I felt better.
Oh! though inspiration found!
I extracted my pad,
And sketched a face
(Pleasantly round)
With a rose sprouting
Luxuriously from the crown!
And above,
A watering can
With precipitation
Tumbling down.
That done,
I felt better,
And went to town.
by Michael Speakman
Read the story behind this poem
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