I taught a portly porter proper water regulation<\/p>\n
When he had chosen hosing all the poppies in the station.<\/p>\n
I suggest it best, I thought, to water from a can,<\/p>\n
As candidly, the hose he chose would leave them weak and wan.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
This stocky station-stocker thought me odd and off my rocker,<\/p>\n
Retorting with a snort to leave my comments in a locker,<\/p>\n
He thence commenced to recompense a-plenty on the flowers,<\/p>\n
Which cowered, crumpled, ripped and slipped; de-pipped beneath the showers.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I worries for the sorried poppies flailing in their bed,<\/p>\n
Ailing, failing, petals sailing deadly overhead,<\/p>\n
Heading to a flooden, sodden, whirling early grave,<\/p>\n
Until the kill was still, with next to nothing left to save.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
They fought the haughty porter and his hyper-pressure hose,<\/p>\n
But sadly couldn’t counter the amount of fountain-blows.<\/p>\n
My train of thought was fraught, I ought’ve got him to refrain,<\/p>\n
But who’d have cried for poppy-cide, thought I inside the train.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I taught a portly porter proper water regulation When he had chosen hosing all the poppies in the station. I suggest it best, I thought, to water from a can, As candidly, the hose he chose would leave them weak and wan. This stocky station-stocker thought me odd and off my rocker, Retorting with