Prithee Friend that Hedge behold

Prithee Friend that Hedge behold
When all we rhiming Fools grow old
Who in vain Florish Life have spent
Amidst it stands a rivall’d Tree,
Now representing sixty three
And like it you and I shall be.
The bare vine round about it clings
With mischievous, intangling Strings
The night Shade with a dismal Flow’r
Culrs o’er it, like a Lady’s Tower
Or Honesty with feather’d Down
Like grizled Hair deforms its Crown
Luxuriant plants that o’er it spread
Not medicinal for Heart or Head
Whch serve but to amuse the Sight
Are like the nothings that we write
Yet still ’tis thought that Tree’s well plac’d
With beauteous Eglantine imbrac’d
But see how false Appearance proves
If he that Honeysuckle Loves
Which climbs by him to reach the Thorns
The rival Thorn his Age derides
And gnaws like jealousy his Sides.
Then let us cease, my Friend, to sing
When ever youth is on the Wing
Unless we solidly indite
Some good Infusing while we write
Lest with our Follies hung around
We like that Tree & Hedge be found
Grotesque & trivial, shun’d by all
And soon forgotten when we fall.

Anne Finch (1661-1720)

Occupy Intersectionality !

Put on your pussy hat, grab your Kibbles—

Let that cat out of your bag

Celebrate your business, Womyn

Whether you be sprite or hag . . .

Which is which? You make us wonder

(as you hate on the head-of state)

What you’re packing. Woman-thunder

Promises to titillate.

Lead us men into our future

Show us where we’ve gone astray.

Shine that light of Matriarchy

As we stumble on our way.

Pure emotion lights your gender.

Superficial party-lines

Tie us up. A pussy-bender

Just might straighten out your signs.

Talking-points at intersections

Promise to inflame the game.

Seeking brave new world directions

Ought to shift some blame.

Feline Frenzy

 

Put on your pussyhat, grab your Kibbles—

Let that cat out of your bag

Celebrate your business, Womyn

Whether you be sprite or hag . . .

Which is which? You make us wonder

(as you hate on the head-of state)

What you’re packing. Woman-thunder

Promises to titillate.

Lead us men into our future

Show us where we’ve gone astray.

Shine that light of Matriarchy

As we stumble on our way.

Pure emotion lights your gender.

Superficial party-lines

Tie us up. A pussy-bender

Just might straighten out your signs.

Talking-points at intersections

Promise to inflame the game.

Seeking brave new world directions

Ought to shift some blame.

 

PROMPT #23: write a poem about an animal.