Part 2: Now Quite the Turtle Tale

Precious minutes prior,

in my best beggar's voice,

I shamelessly implored her then

to tell me something apropos

concerning olden happier

days gone quite well by.

She, having lived much longer

than unartful I, indeed had much,

I thought, to teach me ...

and to advise me ... all about

the mystic secrets that

assured a long, quite healthy life.

But only if perchance could lie

that she should come so quite inclined!

A fresh-from-babyhood---

that, except for gleaming fur,

glossed dark as charcoaled coal---

black squirrel played right

nearly quite to highest peak

of spreading hefty creekside oak ...

and then he spiraled down

and round, then up oak's trunk,

and sped quite ziggedly-

zaggedly clear to breeze-

blown tips of gently skirting,

well-leaved, green-dressed

curving branches (so like

monkey bars for one like agile him)---

and skirred quite back again---

while dancing, prancing ...

and, yes, even chittering to himself.

And taking wondrous notice

of such rushing nonsense

acts of patent, so apparent ecstasy,

Old Plumbrook Turtle swiveled

slightly bulbous head to gaze,

in leisurely fashion, for long moments quite up,

blinking in the briskly coolish morning sun.

Way up she looked.

And probably, by so doing,

I suppose did make herself quite dizzy.

All the while I tarried, filled

to slopping rim with expectation,

chronic hopes held, fluttering

in the gentle drafts so like a flag

unblemished held quite boldly high.

As I waited patiently, quite,

I'm most proud to say.

The while in secret, hidden hoping

Plumbrook Turtle had not put me quite yet

just then out of mind.

At least not quite.

(to be continued in Part 3)