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A Poem

Warning…

I’m in an odd, quirky kind of mood. I’ve been sick, I haven’t slept well, my house is quiet, and it’s raining. A bad combination. Plus I watched ELF this morning (and have been quoting it ever since). So it is in that frame of reference that I present my first and only attempt at writing a poem. I wrote it awhile ago when I was in the same quirky, odd kind of mood.

(Picture some grand Shel Silverstein drawing below. It will help. Maybe)

IF SINS WERE ASSIGNED A SMELL

–by Me.

My son at a Yellowstone sulfur pit last year.

If sins were assigned a smell

Would we be more apt to tell

The lying tongue get

You’re no longer a threat

Because you stink like fish scales?

If sins were assigned a smell

Would we bid a final farewell

To stealing and cheating

That reek like dung heating

Attaching to hair and nails?

Which sins would you mostly avoid

If they smelled like a skunk quite annoyed?

Greed, wrath, or envy

Pride, lust, and gluttony

Just to keep smells from being deployed?


What would happen if odorous mists

Escaped from you each time you hissed?

The temper once wild

Would become rather mild

For nose peace you would gladly resist.

If each time you partook of your vice

Friends sniffed ‘round your house for dead mice

The adulterous want

Would no longer taunt

And the next time I bet you’d think twice.

If your neighbors could smell your transgressions

Like garlic and fifty-nine onions

Rotten eggs, and wet-dog

And a old, marshy bog

Would you give away all your obsessions?

So whenever you’re tempted to sin

Try to think of the stench within.

It may help you to pause

And get rid of those flaws

And instead plant a fragrant garden.

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