There will be scattered thunderstorms for the month
Or for that matter the year
High winds, hail, and pounding rain
Soggy foliage all swirled in a mess
The plants sprout and bloom like the jungle
Climate change is turning the earth
Into a pool of stagnant water, trickleing
Into surging rivers, flash floods
The grapes grow wild, strangling huge
Trees, bringing them crashing down in the
Forest and cluttering the landscape
Pools of squashed grapes ferment in the sun
Drunken birds and wild animals stumble around
Unable to find their nests or burrows
Chaos reigns in the land of the grapes
As the world sinks in into a soggy bog
So floweth the wine from the vine
A ditty by R. John
I won't comment on your poem, but the formatting problem happens often here. The problem may be that your membership does not allow you to use the editor to improve the format.
Deputy Dave Jenkins sets out to find the murderer of the local high school principal, aided by a voice from the grave that is sometimes helpful and sometimes misleading.
"Murder isn't usually this funny."
Amazon reviewer
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Check the Roundtable for answers. I haven't.
Ron