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Some poet should write a "raven" poem, not based on Apollo's oracle of death, but based on Elijah's prophecies as he sat on Gilead's doorstep eating food given freely by the ravenous birds as he awaited the arrival of living water.
I wrote a parody of "The Raven" about Creeping Bellflower, an insanely aggressive invasive weed of Minnesota and Canada.
The Flower
Once upon a summer sunny, while I gardened with the bunnies
Over many a green and colorful genus, a delightful chore—
While I weeded, firmly reaping, suddenly there came a weeping
As I saw it deftly creeping, creeping on my garden floor
“Tis a coneflower,” I muttered, “sleeping on my garden floor—
Only this and nothing more.”
Ah, grudgingly, I remember it was in the late September
And I bragged to facebook members how I’d won the weeding war
Naively I wished the autumn—harvested as though I got em
Sifted out each root from bottom—bottom tubers I Deplore—
Of the bell and violet flower whom the gardeners seeds Deplore—
Seedless here for evermore
Campanula rapunculoides (the very reason I avoid
The friendly gift—an offered plant—carrying a hidden spore)
Had it sprouted in an hour, after today’s light rain showers
Infant dreaded creeping flowers? Kneeling to inspect I swore
“Damn to hell your staying power; stay within the grave!” I swore
Quoth the Flower “Nevermore”
“Zombie” said I, “thing of evil!—zombie still, if plant or devil!—
Whether demon sent, or whether seamen tracked thy seeds ashore,
Invasive yet all undaunted, on this midwest land unwanted
On this ground by Horror haunted— tell me truly, I implore—
Can I — can I save my garden?—tell me, tell me, I implore!”
Reminds me of learning to recite the first part of Shakesperes Canterbury Tales… wish I knew how to spell it in his words!
When April with its surest showers, the Bain of March has pierced to the roots…. Or something like that!
I like Homer Simpson's rendering of this poem!
Some poet should write a "raven" poem, not based on Apollo's oracle of death, but based on Elijah's prophecies as he sat on Gilead's doorstep eating food given freely by the ravenous birds as he awaited the arrival of living water.
I wrote a parody of "The Raven" about Creeping Bellflower, an insanely aggressive invasive weed of Minnesota and Canada.
The Flower
Once upon a summer sunny, while I gardened with the bunnies
Over many a green and colorful genus, a delightful chore—
While I weeded, firmly reaping, suddenly there came a weeping
As I saw it deftly creeping, creeping on my garden floor
“Tis a coneflower,” I muttered, “sleeping on my garden floor—
Only this and nothing more.”
Ah, grudgingly, I remember it was in the late September
And I bragged to facebook members how I’d won the weeding war
Naively I wished the autumn—harvested as though I got em
Sifted out each root from bottom—bottom tubers I Deplore—
Of the bell and violet flower whom the gardeners seeds Deplore—
Seedless here for evermore
Campanula rapunculoides (the very reason I avoid
The friendly gift—an offered plant—carrying a hidden spore)
Had it sprouted in an hour, after today’s light rain showers
Infant dreaded creeping flowers? Kneeling to inspect I swore
“Damn to hell your staying power; stay within the grave!” I swore
Quoth the Flower “Nevermore”
“Zombie” said I, “thing of evil!—zombie still, if plant or devil!—
Whether demon sent, or whether seamen tracked thy seeds ashore,
Invasive yet all undaunted, on this midwest land unwanted
On this ground by Horror haunted— tell me truly, I implore—
Can I — can I save my garden?—tell me, tell me, I implore!”
Quoth the Flower “Nevermore”
Reminds me of learning to recite the first part of Shakesperes Canterbury Tales… wish I knew how to spell it in his words!
When April with its surest showers, the Bain of March has pierced to the roots…. Or something like that!
I like Homer Simpson's rendering of this poem!