Pewe, Trwe and Jowe in a Tree – Poem

Pewe, Trwe and Jowe

All sat in a tree

Along came beauty

It eyes them, suspicously.

Aha, what do you do?

Why, we await you.

Looking upon the three

Sure it’s eyes decieve;

Trwe’s a balloon,

Jowe’s a mop,

And, Pewe’s a stingy bee.

To habour my switch

You must make a pitch

How will you humour me?

The mop alights and pats beauty’s hair

There, there, I have care

I’ll create a land

Where freedom stands,

“Jowe’s land” for any man.

Balloon, pink in face,

Slid down to take his place,

“Trwe’s land” is fertile and green

Buried problems remain unseen

Come to us and live ‘the dream’.

Bee then spoke one word.

Pewe buzzed it, for all it’s worth.

Freedom Beauty heard

Freedom from doctrine?

Beauty’s head did ringe…

Could there be such a thing?

Then Beauty loud did shout

Her anger heard by all about

Into the well fell all three

Trwe, Pewe and Jowe

Disappeared to nought but air

Leaving Beauty and the Tree.

The End.

By Samantha unextraordinarybint Harris.

Published by


We are the sum of ourselves. Creative.

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