Creeping Along
She enjoyed everything green,
her garden pure and pristine.
She planted ivy by the wall,
growing from spring into fall.
Bright berries, crimson red,
she tried one and fell over dead.
Gasping aloud at her demise,
“Such an unfortunate surprise.
Red was certainly delicious,
but green is clearly less pernicious!”
I’m looking for feedback on my poetry collection - drop by and give me your thoughts. It would be appreciated.