With my last foray into Quasi-Shakespearean Home Maintenance Verse having done so much to raise the cultural density of this otherwise highly penetrable site, my first thought upon completing my latest household chore was of course: “There must be someone who would have done this for $8 an hour.”
My second thought was to celebrate my victory over domestic labor in bold Bard-worthy form.
This would be that second thought:
Ode To An Inconveniently Tall Stump Upon The Eve Of My Beloved Wife’s Return From Her Travels
When e’er I see with mine two eyes
My home’s most redneck state
And find no beauty there within
Due to my absent mate
Note the missing wife and present tree. Foreshadowing is in the forecast
Far wanders my frail and lonely mind
To times more graced with bliss
And dawns the thought ‘fore her return
I might should look at her list
Don’t worry Love, your list is at the top of my list…somewhere
First task upon that urgent note:
Lay low the former tree
Whose carcass yet was still too high
To display floral-try1
If you really wanted flowers out here, a step ladder would be no obstacle
So filled with might and much Motrin
I lumbered to the task
And forceful laid into said stump
With loves enduring axe2
Love endures a bit longer with 46cc of internal combustion backing it up
A might battle thus ensued
One wracked with many harms
And glad was I when last I won
To have still all my arms
I’m no botanist but I don’t think trees are suppose to have diarrhea
Though many a more and mighty deed
Were made complete by me
That tale shall test another day
Your love for poetry
Camille was right: this is a vast improvement
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“with love’s enduring axe” could be a euphemism for something.
… must … not … cry
[*sniff*]
Not to freak you out, or anything, but…… If that nasty stuff was inside that tree, what is inside all of your other trees?
Excellent poetry. It’s especially good when the first line can serve duty as the title.
You see, there you go, working too hard again. Methinks that all you had to do was read this poetry to the tree – it might have run, screaming, from your front yard.
But still… it was beautiful. Jack Frost would be jealous.
I mean that.
“I’m no botanist but I don’t think trees are suppose to have diarrhea”
ROFL!
Excellent use of complex tree foreshadowing. Hopefully tree diarrhea is not an extension of the foreshadowing or Camille will be one unhappy camper!
So did you really cut that tree down Brent? (Shut up Debbie)
If they don’t take it away soon, you could always use it as a mailbox post ;) Trust me I’ve seen it done.
i must say i am amazed and astonished by this act of love.
Costa Rica?
I don’t get it.
But then, I don’t get many things. I still don’t understand how water comes out of the tap.
That explains Costa Rica.
But what about the water and the taps?
‘I’m no botanist but I don’t think trees are suppose to have diarrhea’
I hope for The Hot Comma Momma’s sake you didnt get any tree poo on you.
“46cc of internal combustion” Now that’s a new euphemism for Viagra.
I should leave more often. The “list” has finally been completed. All is right in the world, well except the earthquakes, floods, and politics. At least the important things are right.
Taking care of tree diarrhea is a sign of true love. Many brownie points have thus been scored.
This is really amazing and I really like this site.
Thank you for submitting this to the Blog Carnival.
Rosemary
http://mydiyhometips.com/2008/06/17/blog-carnival-edition-no-2/
Now stop that, you’re gonna make me start too.
But…It was s..sooo beautiful!
You only need to worry if the water level in your toilet bowl dropped when you chopped into that tree.
La la la la la -I can’t hear you -la la la la
It always reminds me of my teenage son’s less than modest taste in cologne.
Restraint is aquired taste.
Okay Jeff, with the HCM being gone for close to two weeks now, my imagery may be a little less than chaste.
But poets are supposed to be passionate, right?
It better be, she comes home today.
Like this?
Mine, Two Eyes! - A Greedy Cyclops Adventure.
No but a lot of bugs were sent seeking emegency shelter.
Actually, I often acquire the taste of his aftershave as well. It clings to the tongue like a static filled sock.
A dirty one at that.
I wish I had thought of that, Wolf. It would have saved me a lot of manly exertion.
I don’t think I could have made up the part about the noxious gushing fluids though, truth was definitely stanger than fiction there.
In your enjoyment, just make sure you don’t roll on my driveway. I think it’s still contaminated.
Thanks for the visit.
Oh I see, this was last minute brownie points…
Still cooling from the oven.
Yeah, that would be bad.
And yes, I did bring that tree to justice. This way surprise you, but the City of Memphis still has not removed it’s carcass from my curb.
I thinking about selling autographs or even auctioning pieces off.
Sealed in stank-proof jars off course.
Amazing! That wasn’t what I was thinking at all.
Hey, I like my mailbox post! Thank you very much!
If the smell could keep away the delivery of bills, I’d be all for it.
I stand corrected and must now purchase a piece of stinky diarrhea tree carcass. Lovely.
Well, I had some help. I guess you could say that love runs deep in my family.
It has been known to sleep deep as well, but a person of your enlightened consciousness wouldn’t know about that.
Hah!
Now you have to be nice to me, or I’ll tell Camille your trees have explosive diarrhea.
It ain’t natural Brent.
Well my dear commentinator, you have come in at the end of a long, and surprisingly true, story.
I could try to give you a thumbnail view of it all, but I wrote it so much better in the posts.
Chapter 1: I wrote about last year’s woeful tale of travel, travail, and missed a missed anniversary.
Chapter 2: I wrote about about the subsequent and most joyful reunion.
Chapter 3: I wrote about history sadly repeating itself eleven months later.
Which brings us to today and my love’s return to the United States of Commerica.
Oh, I always thought it meant those microwave burritos. This site is nothing if not educational.
No, I was a little too quick for an inanimate object to catch. It’s one of talents.