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August 16, 2012
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:iconmew10girl:
Nettles

My son aged three fell in the nettle bed.
'Bed' seemed a curious name for those green spears,
That regiment of spite behind the shed:
It was no place for rest. With sobs and tears
The boy came seeking comfort and I saw
White blisters beaded on his tender skin.
We soothed him till his pain was not so raw.
At last he offered us a watery grin,
And then I took my billhook, honed the blade
And went outside and slashed in fury with it
Till not a nettle in that fierce parade
Stood upright any more. And then I lit
A funeral pyre to burn the fallen dead,
But in two weeks the busy sun and rain
Had called up tall recruits behind the shed:
My son would often feel sharp wounds again.

Vernon Scannell


My entry for :iconnamirenn: contest~ [link]

I tried my best to be creative in this :> I tried to use mainly earthy colours to go with the theme~

Thank you so much :iconfrostbo: for the brushes ;A;

I did'nt think I'd get this finished but alas! :iconcryforeverplz:

Bye x
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:iconevlandia:
~Evlandia Sep 24, 2012  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Namg, we did this poem for the english exam last spring. Oh the good times xD
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:iconpaper-and-a-pencil:
~Paper-and-a-Pencil Aug 19, 2012  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
very awesome!!!!!!!!
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:iconpaper-and-a-pencil:
~Paper-and-a-Pencil Aug 19, 2012  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
:) NP
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