Remember our Stealth poetry project (first written about here) … in which I fastened a poem to the back of our front door in an effort to keep poetry alive in our hearts and minds?
Well, I have a new one to share with you today.
Emma actually reminded me of this poem and asked me to dig it out. I’ve printed it out and I’m pinning it to the back of our door, even though it’s unfinished. The girls think it’s hilarious.
FYI, I wrote it in high school! Read it out loud for maximum effect. :)
Fred, the Vegetarian Vampire
In a dark little kitchen, in the midst of the meal,
Someone began to cry and to squeal.
It was Fred. No doubt.
And everyone knew what the fuss was about.
Fred refused to eat his dinner,
His mother was afraid that he’d keep getting thinner!
As he pounded the table with his little vampire fork,
He shouted “You CANNOT make me eat this pork!”
(You see my friends, I am here to say,
modern vampires are different today.
Taking people’s blood is against the law,
so most will just eat all their meat quite raw.)
“If you don’t finish what’s on your plate,”
Said Father vampire quite irate.
“You will be punished, and you know what I mean,
So don’t move a muscle until your plate’s clean!”
Poor Fred just sat there, very still in his seat.
Watching his tears marinade the meat.
He sat there for one hour, two, three and four,
Until the sun rose from beyond the front door.
Mother tucked all the children in bed,
And then went to the kitchen to check on young Fred.
His vampire face was full of despair,
“Oh mommy, oh mommy it just isn’t fair!”
Mother gave up and took away his plate,
and from that day on, Fred chose what he ate.
Broccoli, spinach, lentils and cheese,
he ate it all up, as quick as you please.
–
(I am missing a satisfactory ending. Your poetic suggestions are welcome!)
I’m going to be attending/presenting/soaking up all the know-how at PodCamp Toronto this weekend.
