Terrence

I found Terrence in my garden.

He was in the sombrero’s shade

of the Mexican gnome who played

his guitar with a toothy grin —

a beautiful green terrapin.

I carefully locked up the gate

to be my pet, was this creature’s fate;

built a natural habitat

with rocks, a fountain and all that

turtles needed to be happy —

food and a bed with a canopy.

Made a tuxedo and a red bow-

tie to match his eyes, and you know

I lifted him high in the air

to take a selfie and he peed in my hair.

But O, Terrence, no matter to me,

you are mine all mine mon ami.

So then one day out the door I crashed

to the yard but Terrence had dashed.

He crept through a crack in the gate,

Tore his tuxedo, escaping his fate.

From the top of my tete to the

tips of my toes, Terrence believe me

I cried. Without you my life will

be empty and sad and uphill.

I searched in the desert and spied

his long neck emerge from behind

some cacti. Cocking his head he

gave an ungracious glare to me,

the one who cared for him so much.

Turtles are such an ungrateful bunch.

***

Who says he wants your sweet life to save

But then enslaves and depraves?

No true friend takes your freedom away