May 25, 2007

Instructions to reader: before reading the following poem, collect these words:

A noun: _____________________________________

An exclamation: _____________________________________

A verb, past tense: _____________________________________

An adverb: _____________________________________

Bouquet

I brought you a bouquet of butterflies,

smuggled fresh out of the Botanical Gardens.

I swallowed them all on the way over,

and tossed up a flying rainbow at your window.

I brought you a bouquet of paper placemats

folded into paper spitfires.

Paper hornets buzzed around the syrup on the wings.

I’ve never been a tidy eater.

I brought you a bouquet of snowballs

and delivered them romantically

through your window

on the third floor.

I brought you a bouquet of Mad-Libs,

that was tied up with ______{(a noun)}______

“______{(an exclamation)}______,” you shouted,

and I _____{(a verb, past tense)}___ ______{(an adverb)}_____ into the bushes.

I brought you a bouquet of Vaseline.

I figured you’ve jerked me around enough,

pitching woo outside your window,

that maybe you’d want some of that for yourself.

I brought you a bouquet of kielbasas,

and invited over some friends.

The steak knives and hibachi are mine though.

We’ll have to work together to make Sausage Fest a success.

I brought you a bouquet of photos

of you, artistically framed

through your third-storey window.

But you still won’t come down to say hi.