April 21, 2014
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Tomatoes
The squad hunkered down
They were completely surrounded
The enemy was closing inTrapped
Around them only an open field
Yet they remained hidden
lying low and out of viewCarelessly
The enemy approached
Unaware of the trap
A few more metersSurprise
The squad leapt to its feet
And let the tomatoes fly
A hail of fruiting vegetablesSplat
She took one smack dab center
on her new clean white blouse
The screaming girls fledWar
Even in children's games
there are always casualties
"I'm telling mom!"Drat
Comments (8)
better the tomatoes than dirt clods...you really get in trouble for throwing dirt clods!
Ha! What fun!
As a tomboy, I wouldn't been throwing, too. And whatever we were doing, our older sisters were usually the ones to tell Mom and spoil the fun!
HUGS!!!
At time I feel an epic inspiration in your poem John.

Are tomatoes a secret arm ? !
In friendship
Michel
Oh! Oh! Standing in the corner time, lol!!
Kind of takes me back to the gold old days...We sure had fun, lol!!
I would have been there in with the boys.
lol As a little boy, I hated mom's punishment.
I had to chuckle at this one. I don't recall throwing tomatoes or having them thrown at me but I do remember running for the bathroom and locking myself in to escape an oncoming mad brother.
Boys. No doubt they/you had gathered all the rotten ones too! I'm betting whatever punishment was received it was nothing compared to the pay back from the sister... hehe!
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