The Cumbersome Turtle

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Observation of nature by a stone.

Submitted: November 02, 2018

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Submitted: November 02, 2018

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The Cumbersome Turtle 


I once was a stone,
sitting along the side of the road,
watching the world go by,
in the sunshine of a summer's day.

The tall grass and trees that lived near by,
rustled in the breeze,
complaining that it hadn't rained,
in over a week.

Nature's irony is proportioned,
to exacting measures,
for those same trees and grass,
complained last spring about the rains. 

Just the other day a turtle walked by,
cumbersome to the world,
he stopped for awhile in the warmth of the day,
and shared his viewpoint of the world.

"My biggest problems is with those ants", said he,
"they seem to believe that they can step all over me,
and the nerve they have for biting anything they see,
just because it's there".

"I sometimes wish I could scratch my back,
it itches in the summer's heat,
if given the opportunity I'd be a stone,
instead of a cumbersome turtle".

Away he went over the road,
seeking whatever was in front of him,
never turning back,
to say goodbye.

And as the summer continues I sit here and watch,
as the crow flies by seeking lunch,
high above the ground he circles,
then decides to stop for a chat.

"From afar I saw the turtle stop,
and speak to you of what I don't know,
but in my defense I'll say,
it never happened that way".

"Those turtles exaggerate that what they see,
for too much of their time is spent,
within the confines of their minds,
they should really learn how to fly".

"You should learn to pity them,
for the lesson in that is apathy,
it'll serve you well,
being a stone".

And with that he nudged me,
rolling me over with his beak,
caw'd a few times,
then took to the breeze of a summer's day.

And so there I laid on my side,
when abruptly I was kicked over,
by the fox known as deceit,
as he was seeking shelter from the heat.

"So sorry for my demise,
for never was my intent to harm you,
I was distracted by this heat,
wishing it would stop".

"Did the crow speak of me,
for I did see him conversing with you,
You know they lie for amusement,
it's in their blood".

"It's best to distrust those creatures,
for they have no use for anybody,
they only seek their own agenda,
in the end you'll thank me for it"

And with that he scampered off, 
into the woods where shade was abundant,
poking around where he wasn't welcomed,
as if nobody could see.

I can't speak for I am a stone,
I can only observe to that of this world,
the elements of nature erodes my essence,
that which giviths, always takeith.

Particles of dust I have become,
the stone I was no longer exists,
the summer breeze picks me up,
and carries me away from where I came.


© Copyright 2018 Rhymis. All rights reserved.

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