Unhelpful

The two men stood there, staring,

Their task quite beyond their ken,

It would have been so easy,

With a ladder. And a pen.

Tasked as they were with gauging

Just how tall the flag pole was,

But lacking proper tools, you know,

The task had given pause.

Then finally, a passerby,

She noticed how they stared,

She thought that she could help them both,

This girl had come prepared!

And taking wrench and muscle,

She loosed a bolt or three,

Then laid that pole upon the ground,

And got down on her knees…

Then carefully, she measured it,

T’was twenty-six feet, just,

She nodded to the men and left,

They stared back with disgust.

“She didn’t help at all, you know!”

One, to the other, said.

“What we needed what the flagpole’s height.

She gave the width, instead!”

Karen asks, "Write for me, please?"

We write because she's the Bee's Knees!

And we love her, you know that’s true,

So this is what we writers do . . .

We craft a poem based on a theme,

With pencils, sharp, and eyes agleam,

Each month we write and have such fun

We can't wait for another one,

With FLAGS this month, how did I do?

Please go and see the others, too:

Baking In A Tornado: Seeing Red

Messymimi’sMeanderings