Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: PRIDE (inflated opinion of ones self) (02/19/15)
TITLE: The Ode and the Epitaph --- The Paragon-Pariah of Fallow Field Farm
By Beth LaBuff
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The ParagonâPariah of Fallow Field Farm
Per legendâit happened this wayâ
A thunderbolt split the third watch of the night
And illumined the ramshackle shed
That sheltered the poultry of Fallow Field Farm
And it sizzled a Rhode Island Redâ
The henâClarabelle May
It tousled her feathers and tangled her comb,
Set a-tingling her wattle and beak.
When egg-time approached, she mounted her nestâ
Laid an egg with a rainbow-hued streak!
Her fame âhatched on that day
The Fallow Field folk were agog oâer her egg,
Then the news spread to peeps all around.
For Clarabelle May and her rainbow-hued eggâ
The hen was the squawk of the town.
The eggâenshrined and displayed
The next day, a repeat, her beak was a-tingle,
She climbed up, then settled her frame.
The egg that she laid sported calico print
And propelled the chicken to fame.
Those eggsâtoo prized for soufflés
The fame went to Clarabelle Mayâs chicken brain;
It inflated her self-worth and pride,
Then posies and straw raised her nest way up high,
Thereby flaunting her craft countrywide.
Her nestâfestooned with bouquets
Then subsequent days found a paisley-swirled egg,
Ceremoniously placed on the pile,
Next patterns with gingham, then aubergine dots,
And magenta with fuchsia argyle.
Those eggsânever hatched, by the way
Her nest ever higher, she peered down her beak;
Her gizzard was bloated with pride.
The common folk gawked at the velvet-lined box,
Where the bonny eggs moldered inside.
The eggsâcommenced to decay
Then attached to her shoulderâa sash that declared,
âThe ParagonâFallow Field Farmâ
She added bright streamers and straw to her nestâ
Now the nest reached the height of the barn.
At the summitâClarabelle May
And then, just like that, the tingle was gone.
Then her beak shifted into a frown.
The egg that she laid had no pattern or blingâ
Just a plain chicken egg, colored brown.
Her nestâstarted to sway
One by one all the folk turned their backs on the hen.
Poor Clarabelle May lost her charm.
When something goes up, it is often brought lowâ
The Pariah of Fallow Field Farm.
In infamyâconcluded her day
Now those glorious eggs in that velvet-lined boxâ
The âRâ word was bandied about,
Along with a phraseââthereâs something â in Denmark,â
Her fair-weather friends shouted out.
A shovelâconscripted that day
Astonishing shells of Clarabellâs eggsâ
This monument decries the spotâ
Theyâre buried beneath the Fallow Field sod
âCause inside theyâd started to rot.
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