“To my mind, the life of a lamb is no less precious than that of a human being. I should be unwilling to take the life of a lamb for the sake of the human body. I hold that, the more helpless a creature, the more entitled it is to protection by man from the cruelty of man. . . .
— Mahatma Gandhi (1869-1948)

Hallows Eve hot tub party!

Come on in, come on in my friends

Don’t be shy

You must be hungry

There is, there will be a big pot of stew

It’s warming up

Just for you

That’s where the story ends

No one knew but me

Was too shy

I stayed outside

I watched it all take place

As she stoked the pot

I watched it in a daze

Save behind a tree

Some kind of smokes she passed around

Have a puff she said

You’ll like the weed

I grew it all myself

It’s all for you

There is more upon the shelf

And there is more out in the ground

And soon the laughter grew aloud

Every one was happy

Dancing naked now

Hugs and kisses all around

Come on in its warm

Some now on, and in the pot where found

Most of them on nine or any other cloud

It wasn’t long, and surely one by one

Joined in the fun

All climbed in

Joined places in the pot

Held hands

Noticed not it getting hot

All of them were having fun

And now, to spice it up, the dinner

She brought a bag

Then two

Alphabets would hit the spot

Their favourite

Oh, it sure was getting hot

As hostess, she was a real winner

Surrounded in their favourite stew

Poets all indeed

Could not resist

Made letters into rhyme

What fun

Notice not the time

Never had a glue

Some guests now changing colour

From pink

To red

With rhyme out do each other

What a high

The temperature now hotter

Someone began to holler

She was prepared and knew just what to do

Some now ripe and placid

A bit more salt and acid

More weed put in the pot

More letters too

More happy now the lot

Still haven’t got a glue

Some in the pot now swimming

Floating sort of

Simmering

Among the rhyme and prose

Sort of stewed

Boiling now above their nose

Now none of them were singing

The stew is done, she said, its Simmer

Set herself a plate

A knife and fork

The silence she enjoyed

Lit a candle

Proud of the guile she had employed

And sat down to a nice quiet dinner

24/10/2007