Very Lucky Indeed

Very Lucky Indeed

A Poem by Adele Potter
"

"But, alas, with Annabelle K. Peterson, nothing is ever totally over."

"
Annabelle K. Peterson was an independent woman
Stubborn, stern, and never backing down
She considered Oliver C. Thrive to be very lucky indeed
For he had married her.
And he was lucky.
Very lucky indeed.

One day, Annabelle K. Peterson and Oliver C. Thrive
Decided to take the car around the country
No reason; just to kill the hot summer day
For they had nothing else to do.
And that turned out to be lucky.
Very lucky indeed.


Annabelle and Oliver pulled up to a retail shop on the outskirts of town
They decided to look around a bit, maybe buy a few things
"Don't spend too much," Oliver warned his wife.
But she didn't listen. Her husband was rich.
That was lucky.
Very lucky indeed.

Annabelle did spend quite a bit; she always did.
And Oliver was a little sick of it.
Now, you have to understand, Anna and Ollie loved each other
They loved one another more than anything
They were lucky to have each other.
Very lucky indeed.

But the thing was, Oliver was a little sick 
Of paying too much for his wife's desires all the time.
So, when she loaded her purchases into the car
He drove off. Without his wife.
But Annabelle was lucky.
Very lucky indeed.

Oliver congratulated himself when he got home.
He thought he, for the first time in their six-year marriage,
Had outwitted his wife. He thought it was over.
But, alas, with Annabelle K. Peterson, nothing is ever totally over
Which was why he felt he was lucky to have her.
Very lucky indeed.

Two hours later, a taxi pulled up in front of his house,
And out climbed Annabelle K. Peterson, looking smug.
She nodded to the driver, and thanked him in perfect Spanish.
Annabelle had taken Spanish in school.
That was lucky.
Very lucky indeed.

The driver opened the trunk, and lifted out
The two ugliest urns Oliver had ever seen
This, he realized, was his wife's revenge.
She had most definitely won.
She was lucky.
Very lucky indeed.

"See him?" she said (in Spanish), pointing to her husband on the porch.
"The idiot who will be eating dinner alone at a retseraunt every night this week?
"He'll pay you. Put the urns on the porch."
And with that, Annabelle went inside to begin supper.
Oliver was unlucky.
Very unlucky indeed.

But, he grew to love the urns.
Even more than Annabelle herself.
For they reminded him of his wonderful wife,
And all they'd been through together.
And that he really was lucky.
Very lucky indeed.

© 2011 Adele Potter


Author's Note

Adele Potter
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Featured Review

This is cute!!!! :3
i luffs it. i like how it tells a story at all. it actually reminds me of a nursery ryme kind of.
i think it actually takes much skill to write like this, cuz i can't.
I'm glad there are people writing upbeat poems like you, not just depressing ones like mine (:

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

I love how it repeats the same thing after each stanza! I don't really understand the whole part about the urns though...

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

This is cute!!!! :3
i luffs it. i like how it tells a story at all. it actually reminds me of a nursery ryme kind of.
i think it actually takes much skill to write like this, cuz i can't.
I'm glad there are people writing upbeat poems like you, not just depressing ones like mine (:

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

I really like this poem. It's very quirky and cute, two of my favorite qualities in writing, even though I don't employ it too often. It has a nice flow and vocabulary too.

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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Added on February 4, 2011
Last Updated on February 4, 2011

Author

Adele Potter
Adele Potter

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About
Hey. I'm Adele Potter, or at least I was last time I checked. I'm 13 years old, and I really love to write. I like writing about middle school students, black comedy, parodies of fantasy, and anyt.. more..

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