Sign up now for a
Free Email Account &
your own Online
Writing Portfolio!
Username:
Password:  
Sponsored Items

Click Here To Bid  

Read a Newbie
Badges
Birthday
Presented To:
melzgr8

Testimonials
Tell a Friend
Know someone who'd
like this page?

Email Address:

Optional Comment:

Who's Online?
Members: 199    
Guests: 1645    

   
Total Online Now: 1844    
Writing.Com Time

Thursday
May 31, 2012
5:55am EDT


Recent Items
By Online Authors
  >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Children's >> ID #687355  |   Show DetailsPrinter Friendly Page Tell A Friend
The Windmill
One day a careless boy flew where he didn't want to fly.
Rated:
E
by
Avg Rating: (4)
Writer's Cramp: windmill, purple tulips, boy


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



The Windmill




          He was only eight

          When he got too close and

          The sail commenced to elevate.



          The windmill creaked.

          The little boy screamed,

          As it took him toward the peak.



          His mother cried out;

          His father came running,

          They issued a terrible shout.



         They stood there perplexed.

         The preacher started praying.

         As the boy attained the vertex.



         Then the lad from that height

         Bravely opened his eyes

         And turned a milky, stark white



          He let out a yelp,

          Which the people all heard.

          Then he finished off crying “Help!”



         The father grew desperate,

         The mother distraught.

         What if his clothing should split?



         The townspeople argued,

          On numerous plans.

          Everyone had a “how to.”



          The boy looked down,

          And saw purple tulips

          In the garden plots downtown.



          But he was awfully scared

         And so slammed shut his eyes,

          No more sights did he choose to dare.



          The wind died out.

          The windmill stopped,

         For a pause in its circular route.



          “Thanks be to God,” everyone cried,

         But the poor boy suddenly fainted

          For he was still dangling up high.



          His father ignored the townmen’s advice

         And valiantly scaled the windmill's tail,

         Praying delay would not take its price.



          The father arrived at the poor lad’s side

         And gripped his body in hand.

          Not a townsman had an unblurried-eye.





         So, children, I hope you will heed this tale
          Of the careless windmill boy,

          Who on that day was caught by a sail


          For you see, his parents had warned

          That suspenders do suspend,

          They'd reminded him since he was born.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Winner of the Writer's Cramp 5/10/03







© Copyright 2003 Shaara (UN: shaara at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Shaara has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log In To Leave Feedback
Username:
Password:
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!

All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!