Since I seem to be in a light-verse mode, I will share this poem about a misadventure my granddaddy had before I was born. It was written for the Poetic Asides 2012 PAD prompt before my time.
Granddaddy walked and drove too fast.
Then one day a policeman he passed.
That would not have been so bad
except for the paper bag that he had.
He carried it wrapped up so tight
and ran and ran with all his might.
He threw that bag into the car;
Mr. Suspicious would not drive far.
The policeman’s shout made him jolt.
“Sir, I will not let you bolt
anywhere with your prize.
Your crime you cannot disguise.”
Granddaddy was then befuddled.
That officer’s brain must be muddled.
“Sir, what crime did I commit,
which has you in such a fit?”
“I saw you sprint from that house.
You are a thief, you louse.
What booty have you bagged
and from that dwelling dragged?”
Being honest, as was his habit,
he simply said, “it’s only rabbits.”
“Get out of your car this minute.
I must see that bag and within it.”
So, shaking his head at this stop,
he hoped no bunnies would hop
as he showed that suspicious man
the rabbits with which he ran.
The officer then had no retort.
I would love to see his report.
Sheryl Kay Oder