'Twas a frosty day <br />eager winds from the East, <br />mounds of spuds, dressed in clay <br />under comfort of yeast. <br /> <br />Like a Mari-o-nette <br />you performed on your stage. <br />Of the devils you met <br />only I was the sage. <br /> <br />You gave in when you found <br />that by counting the hours, <br />you'd be long in the ground <br />when the Bamboo flowers.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/when-the-bamboo-flowers/
