Friday, April 5, 2013

Purple Hat

Once upon a time there were two gnomes named Charlie and Apple who lived in a stump by a garden. They were ordinary but sometimes their relatives were not ordinary.

Charlie and Apple woke up on a nice day and were combing their beards (they were young gnomes and had nice red and brown beards, respectively) when they had a visit from Apple's cousin, Purple Hat. Purple Hat is called Purple Hat because he wears a purple hat and also because his real name is too secret to reveal because he is a secret agent. "A raccoon told me you have chocolate chip cookies," he said.

So, they ate cookies and milk and talked about many secret things in code. Like, about a banana riding a chocolate bar and a crocodile eating green jello (which is very unusual because everyone knows that crocodiles hate to eat jello).

They also discussed his archnemisis, a burgerlar named Cheese. He sneaks into countries where the people hate cheese and puts cheese on their burgers (that is why he is called a burgerlar). Everyone knows that it is a terrible thing to ruin someone's dinner so Purple Hat has sworn to defeat him (This secret project of defeating Cheese is so secret that everyone knows about it.)

While they were talking, suddenly Purple Hat disappeared into a cloud of smoke! Charlie looked at Apple and said, "Does he really need to be so dramatic when leaving?" "I'm still here!" said Purple Hat, "Your fireplace is broken."

After calling the chimney sweep, they went outside for fresh air. A helicopter suddenly descended and Purple Hat jumped aboard and rode away to his next secret assignment. "Told you he's a drama king," said Charlie.

The End.

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Real Rain

Prosy poem or poemy prose? You decide.

Middle of the night stirs to hear the rain on the roof
After so long it surprises me
Not a thunder-rain or a wonder-is-it-there-rain 
But a Real steady splish sploshing and pitter pattering
I sleep away and wonder the wheres of January snow
Slip awake again and not expecting rain
Yet still as real and still no thunder
The uncanny silenced Kansas thunder
Remembering when I first realized
That in other places it rained without
Booms and lights and storm chasers
Tornado watches and wind that tears the leaves
In books is rain that falls without these things
We sometimes got a quiet rain but never Real
Just sprinkles, sudden showers or mists in the dark
How odd for it to rain without the shake of thunder
No other shoe dropping from the sky
Do not showers always draw up thunderstorms?
Woke again at wake-up-time and still it really rained
A strange comfortable cloudy darkness
Wishing for a cozy listening all day long
Recalling green and droughtless England
And a lush wet Kansas spring right before a brutal summer
When I stared at the world as though just three days old
Workday called my name and rose and went and still it rained
Soon out of mind until someone asked
And someone mentioned only mist
It made me sad to hear it gone