Skunkworks
©2017, Olan L. Smith
Woke this morning and a peacock
Was in my bedroom, but I couldn't find a rock
To throw at it so I grabbed a tail feather
As it tried to pluck my eyes out, he'd better
Not, as I need to see to write and paint.
He seemed rather irate, yes it was a he
I can tell these things with birds, you see
The plumage and all, 'tis a dead giveaway.
The peacock was all over the room, and today
Of all days for him to poop on my head.
I grabbed a tail feather as I rose, and I thought this day
Is mine saying, "On guard!" Its feather was my epee,
How crazy can this be, a bird in my bed, feathers all about,
And sparring with it? Yea, I will not go down for the count,
From this insult I will not shriek or faint.
Alas, I awake to find a pencil clutched in my hand
As though I am fighting an invisible, yet grand
Demon. I take a deep breath and try to comprehend a vast thought
As I drift off into my bizarre dreams, but I was not fraught
With worry, considered myself blessed, I jousted not with a skunk in bed.
YOU ARE READING
Folly
PoetryThese poems are light and humorous, with some having a deeper underling themes...enjoy. The cover was create by the author.