Green Friday


While the hordes took to the urban sprawl,
Suburban war-zones and dangerous mall,
We fled to the country, a rural retreat–
Down back roads and dirt-paved street;
We stopped at a rustic wooded farm
And left with pine in supersacerdotal arm.

A Bushel and a Peck

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4 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Meenakshi
    Nov 23, 2012 @ 22:45:19

    lovely, lovely, lovely! You reminded me of my own village, its rustic charm, fresh breeze and big farms.

    Reply

    • wordcoaster
      Nov 24, 2012 @ 22:35:08

      Your village sounds wonderful! I’ve always been more of a country person than a city person. Not sure if I could handle the hard work a farm takes to maintain, but I would enjoy the slower pace of life 🙂

      Reply

  2. Pengyou
    Nov 24, 2012 @ 19:46:40

    Supersacerdotal. Wonderful word. This poem brings a smile to my face and a big happy sigh out of my lungs. : )

    Reply

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