“A sickly season,” the merchant said,“The town I left was filled with dead,
And everywhere these queer red flies,
crawled upon the corpse eyes,
Eating them away.”
“Fair make you sick,” the merchant said,
“They crawled upon the wine and bread.
Pale priest with oil and books,
Bulging eyes and crazy looks,
Dropping like the flies.”
“I had to laugh,” the merchant said,
“The doctors purged and dosed and bled;
And proved through solemn disputation.
The case lay in some constellation.
Then, they began to die.”
“First they sneezed,” the merchant said,
“Then they turned the brightest red,
Begged for water, and then fell back.
With bulging eyes, and face turned black,
Then, they waited for the flies.”
“I came away,” the merchant said,
“You can’t do business with the dead.
So I came here to ply my trade,
You’ll find this to be fine brocade.”
...And then, he sneezed!
This is a really great poem Bethany! It rhymes well and has good rhythm to the scentences. The black plague was a really sad event in history and you have done well to create a ryhming poem about it!
ReplyDeleteI agree Jess...it is a great poem Bethany. Your use of language is effective and appropriate to portray the time in question. Well done!!
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