tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-855012732105426889.post1082554902902284308..comments2024-03-06T13:33:02.824-08:00Comments on poetry bites: Potato salad is the poem, right?Kit Kennedyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04680775609980451495noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-855012732105426889.post-6534042958656349222013-03-31T10:19:27.386-07:002013-03-31T10:19:27.386-07:00(H. cont.)
While the merchant's daughter'...(H. cont.)<br /><br />While the merchant's daughter's companion ran<br />into town for a basket of flowers<br />the purveyor and the merchant and his daughter<br />exchanged the stories they had heard<br /><br />It became evident in the telling<br />that the letter had been planted<br />so the information could be scrambled<br />and send the opposite message to the town<br /><br />the foreman in his haste to be important<br />had done exactly what was hoped for<br />and his wrath at the workers was a smokescreen<br />for a plot he had concocted earlier that yearSusan E. Gangelhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11089529481292723290noreply@blogger.com