By Pavel Chichikov
'What are you doing,' he wanted to know,
'Walking around where the garden grows,
Didn't the chap with the flaming sword
Tell you you're not welcome aboard?'
'Sorry sir, when I passed him by
He gave me a wink with a fishy eye
And swallowed the sword and all its flame
So if I'm here am I to blame?'
'What a circus, I declare,
It's becoming hard to bear –
All right then, look around,
But you'll be sorry if you're found.'
There was a river, green as clover
And a bird with a long blue tail flew over
Lizards flitted around the columns
Of apple trees with violet blossoms
Over the water mangrove trees
Dragonflies as thick as fleas
Barrel rolling in the breeze
Catching sunlight with their knees
After a while the man came back
And spoke to me with gentle tact:
'Time to be going before sunset,
Out by night is etiquette,
But tell me if you want my pardon,
Do you like my little garden?'
(Click here to follow Pavel's ongoing epic poem “The Shoulder of the Sun.” You may visit Pavel's website at http://www.greyowlpress.com.)
