*Name Changed To Protect The Nice

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    *Name Changed To Protect The Nice

     Such a sweet one is our Daisy*--though
    many a metaphor, it must be said,
    has been flung to describe her perceived
    lack of profound mental capacity.

    So she isn't the brightest bulb in the pack,
    nor the sharpest knife in the block--
    at least I can be assured her greeting
    will always be friendly and genuine.

    Faithful, hard-working, kind, true:
    best of all, I never need worry my back
    might be stabbed by a razor-sharp wit
    when an attack is least expected.

    Janice M. McDonald

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    HarverTomsson commented on *Name Changed To Protect The Nice

    11-16-2009

    Not sure if this is about a favorite blond, or perhaps someone with Down's syndrome. I think that the word "that" is understood without being present in line 10. "Nice" work Janice.
    Reply to Comment

    poetryrules

    11/24/2009

    My favourite blond co-worker. Thanks.

    papapaczki commented on *Name Changed To Protect The Nice

    11-06-2009

    I like the * reference from the title to the name Daisy. I have a habbit of skipping the title, but once I looked back on it, I realized what you had done, and thought it was creative. This is a good poem, just want to give a couple suggestions. Couple things I see grammatically. L5 after "pack", I think there should be a comma. L1 might benefit from "is" being removed. Although I can't pin point that. The 3rd line from the bottom. "I never need worry my back". Something is missing there. Perhaps "I never need to worry about my back" was the idea where the line was written from?
    Reply to Comment

    poetryrules

    11/11/2009

    Took two of your comments to heart and made changes. Funny, I never thought of the "is" is line one as wrong but you are absolutely right about that. Thanks for your help. It just goes to show what happens when a fresh voice reads your stuff. Thanks.

    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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