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Rated: E · Poetry · Biographical · #1092066
Children up to mischief--who did it?
UP TO MISCHIEF

He did it! No She did it!
The tall stately palm in its large pot started to sway,
The girl in her frock scooted quickly away.
The boy covers his eyes with his small dirty hands,
waiting in horror to see where the plant lands.
The pot teetered and tottered and leaves shook,
as gravity took over,
and the plant dove and dirt poured out like sand.
The pottery clanged against the tiled floor,
and there was a yell, a patter of feet and opening of the door.
Mother with her yarn in hand,
and father with pipe in mouth,
stepped through the door way.
Confession was going to be their first demand.
They stared at the girl and then at the boy,
They glanced at each other,
And dad’s fists started to curl.
Billy, looked at his now dusty shoes,
Then to the plant as it laid in disarray,
He shrugged his shoulders, like he hadn’t a clue.
Sally had managed to get away quick,
Suddenly she felt awfully sick.
Her dress was no longer white,
And her ribbon had gone,
And she let out a long soft moan.
For there in the palm fronds lay a twinkle of red,
Her ribbon had one of the limbs caught.
Billy and Sally neither wanting the trouble,
Stood at attention with lower lips a quiver.
And before ma and pa could even ask,
Billy and Sally pointed at each other with a gasp.
He did it ! No she did it!
Ma and Pa firm in their conviction,
Were very clear in their diction
To bed with both of you young heathen and vixen.

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