21 23 color words hidden in the poem below.
I bumped into an ogre entering a stand of trees.
Before I could yell, “Ow!” he offered profuse apologies
and a quaint bouquet of larkspur. Pleasantries
were exchanged. He wasn’t the kind I go
for, but he promised, “I’m a gent!” and so
I accepted his invitation to stop in kindly.
He offered tea
like a gentleman, but his clothes were drab. Lacking
manners, he bumped me again. Panicking,
I clobbered his brow.
Now what? He’s out cold
Rummaging through a creaking old cabinet,
I discovered a viol etched with the word abluent.
I don’t claim to be Latin fluent
But quick as could be,
poured the liquid into his gaping ogre yap.
All I meant was to help.
Devil or angel, I have to live without knowing. He died.
Please don’t judge or chide.
Not an hour goes by
I don’t beg mercy and cry
As I plump pillows neath the head
Of the dead, honored
I’ll post the answers on Friday.