I had a stove with spiral chimney.
Jiminy! It had a spiral chimney?
Yes. And when the smoke came out of it
it twisted 'round the clouds a bit.
I stoked my stove with birch wood dry
which cranked, I guess, a cloud up high.
And busy as all clouds should be,
this mist it must have noticed me.
For when I went to do my chores
this crazy cloud cuts loose and pours.
My clothes were froze so quick they cracked
and I was glued right in my tracks.
My wife speed dialed nine-one-one
a fire truck was first to come.
The chief he knew just what to do
and stuck his hose right down my flue.
The cloud, it clapped, and zapped me twice
which vaporized the friggin' ice.
Then swift my buns in hot retreat
and in the stove threw incense sweet.
Poems must include the writer's name, phone number and address. They should be kept to no more than 300 words. Submission of a poem does not guarantee publication. Poems may be e-mailed to firstname.lastname@example.org, faxed to 283-3299, delivered to the Clarion at 150 Trading Bay Road or mailed to P.O. Box 3009, Kenai, AK 99611.
Peninsula Clarion ©2015. All Rights Reserved.