You may think you know me,
that you can predict my moves,
case my joints,
analyze my motives,
but you’re wrong.
I am more than what you see,
more than what you surmise.
Whatever you think,
think again –
I was framed…
Illustrious, industrious bug –
obscure pupal foe of wood,
your signature damns you;
literacy condemns your wormy way.
In getting under her skin,
your art, a permanent addition
to Nature’s Driftwood collection,
becomes proof positive
This ‘writing’ is in truth a wormy guest beneath the living tree’s skin. Don’t you think it looks like ‘Mr. W’?
Not to worry , my friend;
those spots where the pollen has perched,
those places where the stains of choices made
mar the beauty of your pristine robe
are about to be
treated to a spot-free rinse,
a soothing soak,
a whitening process to rival
the best dentist’s tools.
Yes, walking around in the gutter
does tend to dampen the hem –
but your Royal Robe
in ‘Saint-Guard ‘(TM),
with ‘Prayer-Release’ technology
that the wearer will
in Dazzling White…
Rude Becky, standing tall and proud, to guard my garden gate,
You can relax, I come in peace, I wish you no ill fate.
What’s that? You now demand a search for items on your list?
No knives, no scissors, nothing sharp – okay, I get the gist.
Stand down, my friend, you can relax. You see? I’ll go away.
(I’ll come back when you are asleep – I need a fresh bouquet!)
My vigilant garden patrol, Rudbeckia, making sure I leave my cutting shears outside the perimeter!