Jonah

Running,
Running,
Running
To the sea.
Far from where I ought to be!
The ship tosses in the gale
Till over I go to be swallowed by a whale!
Black,
Black,
Black
And, oh, the fishy smell!
Boy will this be a tale to tell!
Guess I’ll lay down and cry.
There is no use to try (running anymore).
Bump,
Bump,
Bump.
Oh my!
Now at last I’m dry.
But I still smell fishy,
And I look real icky.
The lesson’s been taught.
Disobey God?
Absolutely not!

By Carolynn J. Scully
©2007