(With apologies to Robert Frost.)
Whose shoes are these? I’d like to know,
and whichaway’d that rascal go?
He left a soggy mess behind.
All dressed in black from head to toe,
he’d naught but mischief on his mind.
I saw him peekin’ through the blind
while I was gettin’ into bed.
When you investigate, you’ll find
he tripped across the sprinkler head
and lost his sneakers when he fled.
I watched the water spew and spew.
My garden’s trampled, roses dead—
there’s nothin’ left for you to do.
But if the fool comes sneakin’ through,
tonight, I’ll shoot his socks off too.
Tonight, I’ll shoot his socks off too.
2012 Mary Boren
Image by hollykl Some rights reserved