Grimly Surprising
poetic scribble by Bob Axell 2009


Overtold is the truth
When I hear it
Behold the grim reaper
Always nearing

Sinking from the heavens
Hired by the flyer
Higher than eleven
Spires I admire

A casket in the baggage
Scythe in gloveclad hand
The grim reaper loves cabbage
I understand

Told the tales my youngsters
They did not listen much
Let the reaper feast on cabbage
And you will not know death as such