Walking through the park, taking pictures with my camera
Of natural things like toadstools, oak leaves and maple samara,
I came across a strange thing, a flower like a zinnia,
(I would say that it was fish shaped, had it been a little ‘finnier’)
With petals that were scaled in shades of black and indigo,
Yet strangely iridescent like a ravens-wing rainbow.
I knelt to take a close up shot, with great enthusiasm,
When the flower-thing fired a cloud of spores in a glorious phantasm!
I coughed and spluttered on the dust, now raging like a tempest.
It obviously was unamused, it’s sacred space I’d transgressed!
It was quite clear I’d caused it pain – it feared for it’s future,
When it felt the earth resound from my size eleven blucher!
When the dust had disappeared, it seemed there’d been a harvest!
The fungus flower was not there, just a strong odour of charred zest,
And for a few scant seconds a strange spider-web-like isthmus
Faded into emptiness, leaving nothing left to discuss.
I’m the only one this side of sane, who saw this blooming miracle,
But I really want to tell this tale, that’s why I’m waxing lyrical!
Of natural things like toadstools, oak leaves and maple samara,
I came across a strange thing, a flower like a zinnia,
(I would say that it was fish shaped, had it been a little ‘finnier’)
With petals that were scaled in shades of black and indigo,
Yet strangely iridescent like a ravens-wing rainbow.
I knelt to take a close up shot, with great enthusiasm,
When the flower-thing fired a cloud of spores in a glorious phantasm!
I coughed and spluttered on the dust, now raging like a tempest.
It obviously was unamused, it’s sacred space I’d transgressed!
It was quite clear I’d caused it pain – it feared for it’s future,
When it felt the earth resound from my size eleven blucher!
When the dust had disappeared, it seemed there’d been a harvest!
The fungus flower was not there, just a strong odour of charred zest,
And for a few scant seconds a strange spider-web-like isthmus
Faded into emptiness, leaving nothing left to discuss.
I’m the only one this side of sane, who saw this blooming miracle,
But I really want to tell this tale, that’s why I’m waxing lyrical!
Author notes
Haha, this was fun! I used 9 words from the word bank (10 if you want to count the title) and rhymed them as close as I could on the next line.
Just for the record:
Samara: a winged often one-seed indehiscent (not opening spontaneously at maturity to release seeds) fruit as of the ash or elm or maple.
Blucher: a high shoe with laces over the tongue.
In a list
A contest entry
- Mission: Difficult IV by shewalksintomine.
1200 points, ended March 29, 2007, 9 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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I am terribly sorry for the generic comment. I have no good excuse, but it is a bit of a switch going from first to third shift. Please know that I did judge fairly and the winners of the contest will be who pixxie and I thought should win and not just on a roll of the dice.
Thank you kindly for entering my contest. -
CUTE! Very good job! This was very entertaining, and the words fit in perfectly! Go you!
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You've done a great job with the word bank here. You penned a very entertaining story. Thanks for entering.
Please do not respond to this until after the contest should you choose to do so. I am co-judging and would like your entry to remain anonymous. Thanks! --->pixxie<---




