Poem

I was working the other day and Ming, our store receiver, told me that he found a poem I’d written while he was cleaning his house. I didn’t believe him so he brought it in the next day. It’s funny how we forget. I read the poem and I finally remembered writing it when I reached the end.

When I first worked at James Bay, before I went off to be a manager, I did try my hand at a bit of poetry. There was a lady who worked in the floral department named Shelly, but she liked to be called Ariel. She was always writing poems and handing out copies to anyone who’d take them. A few of us working in the store at the time also wrote some poems to share with her, and I was one of them. I guess Ming ended up with a copy of one of my poems.

Here’s the poem which is appropriate considering my last post:

Monster

Catching my attention

Thunder on the distant hill

A feeling grows inside me --fear

Thunder growing louder still

In my youth I heard them all

Stories from my mates

Of awful monsters, miles tall

Filled with fear and hate

The echo of the footsteps now

I know are drawing near

No, not thunder -- my mistake

I now may die in fear

I am frozen stiff now

My legs I cannot move

I want to run, to flee my home

But still I cannot move

The horror that befalls my eyes

I wish I’d never seen

The creature -- monster -- ugly sight

I thought it never been

The monster stops before me

And sees, for sure I’m dead

It lifts it’s hand (a death blow?)

Smiled and scratched it’s head

The beast I thought would kill me

Paused and turned away

The thunder growing faint now

I’m here to live another day

The story I can tell now

I’ll be a hero you know

My tale will tell how brae I was

I’ll put on quite a show

My victim’s blood is liquid now

Move eight legs now I can

I’ll drink it’s body dreaming

Of my story of the Man