Wednesday, September 24, 2014

The Man With The World In His Pockets

dressed in sheaths of hand-stitched suede,
always tooled up and ready to play.
"Bring me my ninetails with ropes a'braid,
daggers, dubhs, darts, and all kinds of blade!"
psychic enough to know tools to prey,
specific enough to choose sword over spade.

Day One
no hoe this time, just the spade,
garbed in special gloves of suede,
upon killer weeds he preyed.
time remains to let the children play
weaving grasses into braids,
unweighed by unnecessary blade.

Day Two
bound his hair in a tight braid,
today he discarded the spade,
grabbing, instead a specific blade,
the kukri wearing sheath of suede;
war games with it are played,
though he knows not what he preys.

Day Three
This time, it's on him is preyed:
someone sought to trim his braid.
This is a game he's long played,
though he brought just the spade
dressed in a tux of suede.
If only they had brought a different blade.

Day Four
The sgian dubh ain't just a blade,
serving snacks for the prayed
in cotton, leather, wool, or suede.
His has hilt of steel wound a'braid
(never confused with wood a'spade),
with which his fingers like to play

Day Five
A job with children, comes ready to play,
never wearing a sharpened blade.
No gardening due, brought no spade;
only pretend monsters on to prey,
so he brought with hilt of braid:
sword of foam and sheid of suede.

Psychic enough to know tools to prey,
what he'll need on any given day;
try to test him, he'll get that grade,
every prompt is left dismayed.

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