Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Getting There

The giant was angry (as their kind grow cross)
when facing a forecast of ongoing loss
he sacked the old captain (without much ado)
for making the swamp a morass to go through
and then took a gamble (ignoring the odds)
to maybe replenish his dwindling wads
by asking the mirror (that once manned the helm)
to help him bring sanity back to the realm.

2 comments:

Shirley said...

After all these years I still get so much pleasure out of reading your poetry. And not an alligator in sight? Good deal!

rch said...

Thanks Shirley, I may have to call this one the neverending story.