My Minion, almost in the style of A A Milne;s Market Square, by A.J. Ponder

My Minion

Almost In the style of A.A.Milne, "Market Square"

I had a dollar

a brand new dollar.

Mum gave me a dollar

for cleaning the hall.

I took my dollar, my fine bright dollar,

straight to the book-shop, and asked them all.

"Have you got a minion, a slave, or a servant,

'cause I really am tired of cleaning the hall."

But they didn't have minions,

at least not real ones,

and story book minions

are no use at all.

So I took my dollar down to the bakers,

and showed them my dollar, and asked them all,

"Can you make me a minion, 'cause I really need a minion.

I need a minion to do my chores and all."

But the baker couldn't make minions,

at least not real ones,

and ginger-bread minions

are no use at all.

So I went to the shop where everything's a dollar

and said, "I need someone at my beck and call,"

but they wouldn't sell a minion, no matter how small,

they didn't have a minion -- not for any price at all.

I trudged home with my dollar,

and I slammed the door,

and I stomped to the kitchen

when I heard my mother call --

"Would you like a sandwich?  A rainbow-sprinkle sandwich?

I've cut the crusts the way you like them most of all."

That's when I knew I had a minion, my very own minion,

I'd always had a minion, after all. 

 A.J. Ponder

This was a for a certain friend, who remains anonymous who was complaining there was not enough rhyming poetry.  You know who you are :D

Remember, Remember the Babes in the Wood

I was busy murdering babies

As you do

The cherub grins

Gone.

The sapphire-eyed,

Dark skinned,

Beauties --

All dead.

It's enough to make a writer cry.

It's enough

To make

You throw away the pen

Tear apart the keyboard,

Key,

By stinking key

But, 
my babies,

I loved your family

just enough

To see you die

Forgotten,

Unloved.

Your silent tears

Echoing through

To your brothers

And sisters,

As they hang their heads

Onto the bloodied page

And weep.

There's a common author expression. "Murder your darlings" or sometimes "kill your darlings" And no, it's not about the characters. It's about our words. As authors we love our words, but sometimes they just don't fit the longer piece we were planning to put them into—and what that means for writers is that just because you've written a nice piece of prose it doesn't mean it should stay in your writing. If it doesn't fit, no matter how pretty, it should be cut. 

And that's tough. But in the end your writing will be better. But more than that, the emotional impact will be all the stronger for having written and then cut that delightful bit of prose.

Happy writing authors, and happy reading readers,

 A.J. Ponder - author page

 

Find my stories and support my writing on ko-fi 

And tell me which poems you'd like to see in my upcoming poetry book—2024? https://ko-fi.com/ajponder

The Circle of Life

We have let the snakes 

Into the hen house

Smoking cigars

And complaining

The eggs

Are not at all

To their satisfaction

"More would be

Better."

"Should we lose

One or two

Or

Wait?"

You get the score

Better lay more

After all,

There's one thing tastier

than eggs...

  A.J. Ponder 

Part of the Circle of Life series of poems:

The Circle of Life II  

The Circle of Life III

Cheers to Ernie Ellis - just as I thought I'd never find an appropriate picture I come across this book-cover, and it's perfect.  As for the poem, well I think it probably speaks for itself.  And as always, the current Tuesday Poem is here, at the Tuesday hub. 

Tuesday Poem: Caught in the Middle of Too much White Space

Running

Off

And finding ideas spinning

Away

Past tightly packed Geraniums

With

No sign of stopping for breath

You

Cannot pull those threads together

Can't

Find the Coherency

You

See its lost in the blue ninety nines

See

I'm

I'm

Splitting apart  

Nothing left now                                but                              Chrysanthemums

 A.J. Ponder 

The tricky thing about this poem is that it's really three poems in one depending on how you read it,  and of course (at least for rabid fans like me) this is in part a (very strange) homage to  A A Milne's The Dormouse and the Doctor, which can be found here at http://www.poetryconnection.net/poets/A.A._Milne/14279 although I find myself that I'd prefer to wait until the official copyright is over.  That's why I have the books :).

And don't forget to check  out the Tuesday Poem -'Tuesday': an unfolding communal poem for a birthday

... all laughed except Tyr: he lost his hand: The Poetic Edda on the god Tyr hence Tuesday.