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The prophet




Some kids were in the Holy Land ,

And one old prophet walking by

‘Baldy!’ they shouted, Baldy!’

He didn’t care for their rude cry.

Such insults to a man of God!

At once he laid a curse

Upon the jeering wretches there-

Which, as it happened, was the worst

Thing they could have dreamed of.

For, as the curse came from his lips,

Two mother bears came from the woods.

Those kids had had their chips.

The cheeky lads were torn apart

To bits and bones and blood.

So much for mocking righteous men:

A fate much worse than Noah’s flood

  Ron Gardner 
12/3/11

About poetreecreations

I am an author writer publisher web administrator I run poetry workshops in the community. My published Manners childrens poetry book can be found at www.waterstones.com

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