Purchase order for planks I filled,

A table for potted plants to build.

Prime red oak with lustrous finish,

Nary a knot, no outward blemish,

With grain straight as line of sight,

Uniformly ridged, close and tight.

I stopped for milk ‘fore starting my work,

Checked the load with a tender jerk.

Lost only seconds at the dairy case,

Checked right out at a moderate pace.

Stepped to my truck with no delay,

Astounded, found with dismay,

My red oak wood had sprouted wings,

And gone the way of spirit things.

My planks were nowhere in sight,

And no one was there, no one to fight.

The thief had come as I went in,

Took my planks, slick as a pin.

Now I don’t know how strong you feel

About thieves and what they steal,

But no sufficiently awful plight

Can befall a thief, in my humble sight.

What the thief took without saying thanks,

Those beautifully clear red oak planks,

May cause him to look back, utterly thrilled,

Wreck, and splinter the wood so finely milled.

A sliver comes spearing through the cab,

Skewers the thief with inertial jab,

And leaves him driving his useless nails

In red oak wood as his miserable life fails.

Would’ve been different, a much better call,

Had the bastard not bothered my planks at all,

For then I’d have driven my nails in the wood,

And he, me, and the plants’d all feel good.

That’s what’s good about writing verse,

Take something bad or even worse,

And with imagination in just a while,

Make it all better, and close the file.