Read Inside the Worm Page 3


  And reduce stone battlements to rubble.

  He cometh with a howling from afar

  And those who stand against him shall be lost,

  Their bodies battered, limbs torn asunder,

  Their broken bones flung in the darkest pit.

  He cometh in a blaze of glory

  And in his hands he holds the universe!

  All the stars and planets kneel before him,

  In awe of his majesty and power.

  ***********************************************************************

  The Sparrow

  Frail young wings,

  Beating in the wind,

  Fought winter's gust

  With valiance,

  Still her heart

  Was never in it,

  Gentle creature

  That she was.

  How she soared

  In the summer breeze,

  Sunlight flick'ring

  Off her wings,

  She rested

  'Mong the dark green leaves

  And rose above

  The tall trees.

  Then autumn

  With its surly frown

  Dashed leaves and dreams

  To the ground.

  Her heart sank

  Within her small breast

  And she was lost

  In the mist.

  Abandoned

  To winter's vile wolves.

  Left to suffer,

  Ripped and torn

  And bleeding

  By its snarling jowls,

  She vainly fought……….

  But she lost.

  ***********************************************************************

  The Star Man

  The star man rose

  Upon his toes

  And began his tribal dance

  Around the room

  To sporadic tunes

  From Emil's Mournful Band.

  His four arms whirled

  Like flags unfurled

  And his head bobbed up and down.

  His long green tongue

  Just kind of hung;

  His eyes were reddish brown.

  He wore a sneer

  From ear to ear

  And he didn't have a nose,

  Just one small vent

  Shaped like a tent

  Attached to a six inch hose.

  Shaped like a pear

  With purple hair

  Sprouting out in tiny clumps,

  He was indeed

  A sight to see

  As he hoofed around the dump.

  The gang all cheered

  Then downed their beer,

  Robber's Roost in outer space

  Might be a hole

  But the sky patrol

  Never did come near the place,

  'Cause star man's there

  And he's a ter'r

  All across the galaxy.

  They'd never guess

  How well he danced;

  They never would believe.

  ***********************************************************************

  The Well

  "The well is dry,"

  Said Izel-I,

  "And there's not a bloody drop."

  Old Winky sighed,

  While Noddin cried

  As he stirred his bowl of sop.

  "How can you know?"

  Asked Mizzeltoe

  "For it's much too deep to tell.

  I think you ought

  To take a jaunt

  To the bottom of the well."

  They all agreed

  He should take heed,

  And possessed with every hope,

  They all set out

  Right then to scout

  For a good thick, sturdy rope.

  But Izel-I

  Crept slow behind

  For his heart was filled with woe;

  He dared not tell,

  But he knew well,

  That he did not want to go.

  So all that day

  He hoped and prayed

  N'er to find a cordling stout.

  They'd near gave up

  And stopped to sup

  When Old Winky gave a shout.

  "Let's all march back

  To Dinky's shack

  And we'll bar a rope from him!"

  Poor Izel-I

  Was 'bout to cry

  When they leaped up with a grin,

  So off they went,

  All at a sprint,

  To Old Dinky's cabin door.

  They knocked a bit,

  Then opened it

  When they heard Old Dinky roar.

  Then Mizzeltoe,

  With voice of woe,

  Explained the situation

  And Dinky laughed

  'Til bent in half

  At their strange explanation.

  "Come, sit a spell.

  Fergit the well,

  You can have a cup on me!"

  But Noddin said,

  Shaking his head,

  "Dink, I don't believe you see.

  How can we know

  Next time we go

  Passin' by the dad burned well,

  If we should stop

  And let to drop

  Our brand new oaken pail?"

  "But if you stop

  And let to drop

  Your brand new oaken pail,

  Would not a splash

  Or thud or crash

  Tell the status of the well?"

  "By jove, yer right!"

  Yelled Izel-I

  "And it's grateful that I am,

  For much I feared

  That once down there

  T'would've ended in a jam."

  They stayed for tea

  And buns with seeds;

  There was cake and pudding too,

  And a giant gel

  Shaped like a well,

  Filled with gobs of creamy goo.

  ***********************************************************************

  Where is the Maiden who Sang by the Stream

  Where is the maiden who sang by the stream?

  Fragile she was, like some misty dream.

  Pale as a star, as shimmering.

  Why has she left us so lonely and bare?

  Left on the wind without a care.

  Left on the wind, no longer there.

  ***********************************************************************

  Bonnie Mutchler has written hundreds of poems since her childhood, several of which have been published in anthologies. She lives in Missouri with her one eyes cat Blinky and loves her Super Poke Pet, Clucky.

  You can find Bonnie on:

  MySpace: https://www.myspace.com/moonvapors

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/bonnie.mutchler

 
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