Posy McDoodle,
Faithful church bulletin ed.,
Was fed up with all the
Church
Politics rattling around in her head.
She even tried diplomacy,
Isn't church about
Peace?
Newsflash to Posy:
Church folk put peace as the least.
Still, it might not have been so bad
If her family had not been so,
Well...so...well, there's no
Nice way to say it, so
We won't say it, no.
Posy went home, defeated, one day.
When she was asked,
"Why aren't you happy?"
She just wouldn't say.
Instead, Posy started gathering
Ribbon, buttons, needles, and thread,
Fabric, crayons, wire, wood,
Any scraps she could find, anything she had.
She molded and folded,
Humming as she puttered along,
She pleated and cleated,
All the time humming her own little song.
The first several weeks,
Posy faithfully churned the bulletin out,
Wrote to her relatives,
Even when she wanted to
Shout.
But, when she went home,
Posy wrapped herself in her bliss
Of what she was creating,
Not caring about anything but this.
One week, Posy didn't show up
On the day the bulletin was due,
They called her on the phone
But they couldn't get through.
So some of them went to Posy's house
To ask her about bulletin day,
But, when they got there,
They forgot what they were going to say:
There were odd looking sculptures
All over the front lawn,
Flowering vines wound around oversized
Purple bunnies and pink-spotted fauns.
When they went up and knocked,
Nobody answered, so they tried the door,
They called out "Posy?"
As if they were afraid to see more.
Posy didn't answer
So they all tiptoed in,
One behind the other,
As close as if they were kin.
The sight in each room
Was more fantastic than the one before--
Giant red-violet butterflies with
Bright blue stars were painted on the floor.
Orange horses and red angels
Were singing on the walls,
Rainbow creatures stuffed like pillows
Made totem columns in the halls.
And, there, in the last room,
When they finally turned the corn-
Er, was Posy humming a tune,
Decorating a green elephant's horn.
"Posy?" They whispered,
Clearing their throats that had gone dry.
Posy kept on humming, giving no clue
That she knew they were standing nearby.
Meanwhile, Posy's relatives
Noted that she hadn't wrote,
But they thought she was
Happy
So they didn't even bother sending a note.
And, you know Posy was happy,
For the first time in her life,
She decided to make her own world
Where Peace transformed strife.
The church folk, being good people,
Had Posy carted away
To one of those nice funny farms,
Where she continues creating
Her own little world of peace
To this day--
Safely out of sight,
And out of wholesome people's way.
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