The Scarlet Thread Anthology: The Rhyme of Samson Dime

Dime was seated in a chair one day,

And watched the breeze and daffodils together play.

Of his shoes and socks he quickly got rid,

And gazed at a cloudy conglomerate he did.

What the heavens advertised was neither wholesome nor good –

(You’ll pardon me if my words are uncalled-for or rude)

And retreat inside young Samson should.

But our hero would not move a finger,

And under towering clouds he decided to linger.

The jingle of thunder invited Dime to stay,

As yet he had no presentiment of how much he would pay.

For our capitalist friend there would be no escape –

He might as well have been affixed to the chair with red tape.

Everywhere he turned there was nought but lies –

The clouds commanded a store with supplies.

So Samson heeded – privations he would find!

The lightning melted his wallet and his mind.

By Peter Wysocki

Photo via (cc) Flickr user jbelluch (Jake Bellucci)

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