|By Waugsberg, via Wikimedia Commons|
I started out this morning with maudlin…
"Barbed Wire Teacher"
A little rusty
seen better days
she gets the job done.
Once I was a younger teacher
watching the older gals work
thinking, "I will never get that old."
I remind them of their moms.
call me Grandma.
Even though I'm a little rusty
I hope I am not as prickly
as barbed wire.
(c) Carol Wilcox, 2013
And ended with stupid…
I might have a poem about barley
or barges or barrels or bards
I might have a poem about barbeques
But I don't have a poem about barbed wire.
I might have a poem about Barbados
or maybe the Barbary Coast,
Those places with beaches and barnacles
where barbed wire's usually a ghost.
I might write a poem about bargains
or barbells or Barbie or Ken
Perhaps I've a poem about Bar-Bar-bara-Ann
But those barbed wire poems ain't no gems.
I might have a poem about barn burners,
barnstormers, barnyards, or barn doors,
But those poems about barbed wire fences
Are wadded-up trash on the floor.
Poems about barbed wire fences
are poignant or raunchy or wise,
I've written me poems about many ol' things
But barbed wire's one I ain't tried!
(C) Carol Wilcox, 2013