The Feast, the Farmer’s Daughter, and Her Big Surprise

Photo by Annie Spratt

The feast we held was for our friend’s return

To our tropical home in wintertime, no fires to burn.

We go up north mid-spring, too hot here in the summer 

We come back at winter; cause staying North’d be a bummer.

Our celebration of their return was going to be sublime

For we all felt the bliss in this wondrous tropical clime. 

We had our table all set up with salad, lasagna and meat.

The smells were so darn good we wanted to plop in our seats. 

The chairs would be filled with really happy faces,

Ready to dive in when all found their places.

And all eight friends raised their glasses of wine

Some with cheap brands while others had fine,

To make a toast to being together once more.

“To Joel, Maria, John and Elenore,

“And Bill and Daniela, Annie and Fred,

“From me and Mac, let's drink down the red.

“But save some for dinner, it's lasagna, you know

Italian and red wine just go with the flow 

Of meat and pasta and salad and more,

“So, try making a wish and see what’s in store.” 

We downed our first drink with a bite of the salad.

Memories told could have been part of a ballad.

While reminiscing and eating the delicious fare

And drinking more wine we were quite unaware

Of what was happening in the kitchen nearby,

a critter was there but making no cry

As it licked off the platters and searched for more

We had no idea what it had in store.

Photo by Ja San Miguel

After our meal was when a strange thing occurred.

An event that right then had seemed quite blurred. 

Someone spotted the critter, which was unexpected.

We looked to see a small one; a baby, I suspected.

The quiet from our shock was suddenly shattered 

As meek, mild Maria said she knew what mattered

She jumped up from her chair and ran outside for a while.

What was she doing? We wondered with no smile.

She soon came back with a stick that was bent,

But we did not know for what purpose it meant,

Until Maria said loudly and with great determination:

“I am a farmer’s daughter, and it is my inclination

To not let live that which will be destructive

Even though cute, it will serve nothing constructive

It must die so that it destroys no more,

So, close your eyes while I make the score.”

I turned away, not liking the situation

But knowing the truth behind Maria’s retribution.

She was right about not allowing the critter to stay

And in her mind, she thought that it needed to pay

With its life so it would transgress no more

Nor show its fangs when it would begin to roar

As it would try and play dead but then come alive

And make one regret having saved it damned hide.

But when I heard the whacks, I could not bear

To think of the happening, and I shed a tear

Of sorrow for that destructive one

And the many more who live under the sun.

Photo by Stephen Tafra

Then Maria tried to explain to us

That when she was young there was always a fuss

About the rodents who would come eat their grain

And how they were taught to kill so that none would remain.

“Tonight,” she said, “no one was willing to do their bit

I could not stand by and not destroy it.

So please don’t see me as a maniacal girl from the farm.

I’m only me not wanting critters to cause harm.”

I realized, one never knows all the qualities of friends 

Or all strengths, ideas, knowledge or trends

But one thing I think that is quite certain

We can call on Maria when it’s time for the curtain.