Poem a Day

Poem a Day
April 15

The Village Wench
With apologies to Longfellow

Under the flowering plum tree
The village wench stands.
A paragon of virtue she
With small and supple hands
And the diamond earrings on her ears
Are held by silver bands.

On her back tigers are tattooed
Her face is like the tan
Her brow is wet with sexy sweat
She earns whate’er she can
Her income tax is paid in full
She owes not any man.

Chicken Noodle Soup she makes
You can hear her soft breath blow
You can hear her jump rope in the den
With measured beat and slow.
Like bats in the belfry flying out
When the evening sun is low.

And Gentleman coming to her place
Look in at the open door
They love to see her flaming dress
And hear her mellifolus roar
The cow jumped over the moon she does
While lying on the floor

She goes on Sunday to the Church
And it makes her heart rejoice
Monday it is book club time
She dares to raise her voice
But when the sun goes down at night
She’s there among the boys

Sometimes she remembers mother’s hand
With organic tea and pies
She needs must think of her once more
How in the grave she lies
And with a gravely soiled hand she wipes
A tear out of her eyes.

Toiling—rejoicing—sorrowing
Dutch Treat through life she goes
Each evening sees some task begun
Each morning sees it close
Something attempted, something done
Prefix a day’s repose

Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy fiend
For the pleasures you have brought
In the art festival of death
Your fortune must be wrought
May God forgive what you have done
Each burning deed and thought.

Orginal title-Village Smithy – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow