Once upon my thyme
a stranger did fall back.
I went to see if she was fine
and brought her in for an ice pack.
The stranger was strange indeed,
As she laid there in my bed,
"I come to you: danger, heed!"
or that's what I think she said.
"You said danger, right?
You've come to me,
in the middle of the night,
ruining my--" "We!"
After interrupting, the stranger paused to think.
Little leaves stuck out her long hair,
And my thyme herb was making her stink.
"Death and pain to Earth, beware!"
"Where are you from, why are you here?
How did you fall face first into my thyme?"
"Future, helping, above I appeared.
But sorry. Glad plant was under. Now I'm fine."
With greater fervor the stranger said,
"Important not! Your time short! Prepare!"
"'My thyme is short? More like half-dead.
Are you going to sow new seeds, or do you even care?"
"Half-dead? So you see!
Time short, days only!
Come back with me
If survive, still lonely..."
The stranger made no sense,
Speaking of my thyme.
I thought to build a fence,
When I could find the time,
But, of course, regret it since,
and very, very much so.
Because three days I winced,
Building a fence, never to know.
Upon the fourth day hence,
I faced great death and sorrow,
for a meteor fell in the distance,
and covered the land in snow.
Now every day, I look to see,
Yet nothing breaks the snow.
I've sown ten-dozen seeds,
Still my thyme never grows.
12 March 2019
