Writing Assignment #5, Draft 2

A Silly Poem, a la Dr. Seuss

There once was a hippo named Fabio Blue
Who lived with his cousin, a meercat named Tru.
They both loved bananas, and pickles with peas,
And custard and mushrooms and take out Chinese.

Now the two cousins lived in the Kingdom of Smee
In Kwizabang jungle in a hole in a tree
They spent all their days drinking dew drop martinis
And basking in the sun wearing purple bikinis.

One morning while drinking their clear tasty booze,
Fabio and Tru found a pair of sweet shoes
They were high heeled and leather and had hard pointy toes,
With buckles and ribbons and polka dot bows.

Fabio wanted the shoes, he wanted them bad
They were so perfect, they were totally rad!
He could wear them to parties, or while riding his llamas,
They went well with everything, even pajamas.

But Tru was quite jealous, he wanted them too,
They looked weird on Fabio, he had not a clue.
So Tru asked him nicely if he would share,
But Fabio answered, “Get your own flippin’ pair!”

Tru was incensed, Fabio had not the right
To tell him to scram, this meant a fight
Tru would not leave, he would not skedaddle
And he challenged his cousin to a dance-off type battle.

But Fabio was prepared, he did the Worm
So Tru followed with a bit of a squirm
They were tied till the end, the outlook was grim,
Until Tru finished up with ballet, on whim.

“You win!” cried Fabio, he had given up
But Tru handed him a dew drop sized cup
And said “We can share them, don’t be a sore lose.”
So Tru and Fabio both wore the shoes.

The the cousins were happy, united once more.
In their new rockin’ shoes things were never a bore,
They still wear bikinis under wispy palmettos
But now they also wear the racy stilettos.

Writing Assignment #5, Draft 1

A Silly Poem, a la Dr. Seuss

There once was a hippo named Fabio Blue
Who lived with his cousin, a meercat named Tru.
They both loved bananas, and pickles with peas,
And custard and mushrooms and take out Chinese.

Now the two cousins lived in the Kingdom of Key
In its great big green jungle in a hole in a tree
They spent all their days drinking dew drop martinis
And basking in the sun wearing purple bikinis.

One morning while drinking their clear tasty booze,
Fabio and Tru found a pair of sweet shoes
They were high heeled and leather and had hard pointy toes,
With buckles and ribbons and polka dot bows.

Fabio wanted the shoes, he wanted them bad
They were so perfect, they were totally rad!
He could wear them to parties, or while riding his llamas,
They went well with everything, even pajamas.

But Tru was quite jealous, he wanted them too,
They looked weird on Fabio, he had not a clue.
Tru asked him nicely if he would share,
But Fabio answered, “Get your own flippin’ pair!”

Tru was incensed, Fabio had not the right
To tell him to scram, this meant a fight
Tru would not leave, he would not skedaddle
And he challenged his cousin to a dance-off type battle.

Fabio was prepared, he did the Worm
But Tru responded with a bit of a squirm
They were tied till the end, the outlook was grim,
Until Tru finished up with ballet, on whim.

“You win!” cried Fabio, he had given up
But Tru handed him a dew drop sized cup
And said “We can share them, have a drink, don’t be a sore lose.”
So both Tru and Fabio both wore the shoes.

The the cousins were happy, united once more.
In their new rockin’ shoes things were never a bore,
They still wear bikinis under the waving palmettos
But now they also wear their racy stilettos.

Writing Assignment #4, Draft 3

The Tree

The clear, dulcet, warbling song of the nightingale filled the clearing. She was perched on the steady weathered tree that had sunk its roots deep into the fertile soil there. Her minute talons sank into its bark, leaving invisible marks. She cocked her head and peered down at the deer grazing in the moonlight-dappled shade. The forest was a symphony of trilling birdsong, the gentle murmuring of the warm wind, and the comforting hum of crickets. A squirrel popped up onto the limb opposite the bird, startling her into flight. She took off and wheeled above the dark sea of waving foliage.
The tree felt the bird leave, and the tickle of the squirrel’s paws. It watched the graceful deer gazing at it with moist eyes while they slowly chewed their mouthfuls of grass that they had cropped up from the tufts around the its roots. The tree could feel moss blossoming on its trunk, could hear the rhythmic liquid gurgle of the nearby stream, and perceived the wind dancing with its leaves.
Later that night, the tree was saturated with cool rain that ran down its branches. The rich roll of thunder echoed within its trunk, and swift sprays of lighting split the air. When the shower was done, animals lapped up the puddles that has collected between the trees roots. The soothing smell of wet earth filled the woods, and milky alabaster moon washed the clearing with pale light. The tree felt a peace reach all the way down to its roots, and watched the sun rise and illuminate the fat droplets of dew and rain on its leaves.
That was the last time it rained for a very long time.
The heat of summer brought an unforgiving drought to the forest. No rain had come for weeks, and the tree felt dry and barren. It thirsted for moisture, and the sweet soggy caress of rain. The grass around it had withered, and the animals seemed to have disappeared. The soil around it had caved in slightly, and its roots did not feel stable, they could not grip the crumbling earth. When the sweltering wind blew, the tree moaned deep within itself because it knew that it would fall and die soon.
The heat was unbearable that midnight. The tree could see the stars blistering and blinking, sunk deep within the sky. The air was thick and still, and some of the tree’s bark had begun to crack. The sap oozed out of it’s wounds like blood and melted down it’s trunk. Then, out of nowhere, a cool breeze ruffled its wilted leaves. As the wind picked up, the tree began to sway. It’s roots started to loose grip, they were too brittle to hold. Finally it fell. Dead quiet reigned as it slowly plummeted toward the parched earth. A crash, and a bitter silence. The earth heard it fall. The birds, and all the beasts in the wood heard it. The stream, the grass and the flowers all listened. Then, a soft moan of relief and release echoed to the sky. Suddenly, a single drop of rain kissed the tree’s ravaged bark. Then the stars opened, and water poured from the clouds. The forest came back alive.
The tree can see the moon more clearly now. It can feel the deer close by again, the moss and rain repairing its wounds, and where its roots used to be, a new tree is reaching towards the stars.