All Most There...I Can See The End.

I'm exhausted...and I still have a short paper to write for a class. Next week is break for me and as much as I want to sit and do nothing my mind knows there are too many things to accomplish. For example, all of the mundane tasks. On top of all of my tasks is planning my wedding reception with Mom, so that should be fun. Monday is another doctor's visit. Friday is another treatment. Another poem to write for American Poetry--here I go!

Cancer Waltz

You talk a mean talk, hanging out there,
you watch others suffer and you laugh
while you work your dirty, dirty deed.
I must admit, you gave me a scare,
when you'd given me your autograph
though I resisted and tried to pluck your seed.
Hark! I've done it!
Look at you, you little shrew,
Your discolored texture reveals nothing
but the hook you bit.
Wait, you've returned to chew?
Where's my sword? You're not king
       You come as a small mass
       But you're still a pain in the ass
       And I'll win you little bass.

Indian Fire Ants

And the glow of the fire burns the night
as small black creatures emerge;
from the core of the red light,
shaking a young child, her thoughts diverge;
to arrows unseen by the naked eye,
creatures that give no love
yet they choose not to die.
A woman with arms smooth as a dove
presents a blanket unlike any other
to her frightened daughter...a bear one,
as she curls up to her mother
who instructs her to hang it over the sun.
         The bear will eat the foe
         and rescue the little doe.