Water Thief

When I had a pool party the Fourth of July,
by the end of the day my new pool had run dry.
The invitees were shattered—in fact they knew grief;
on that day the offender was the Water Thief.

He arrived like a riot from deep below ground
sucking water through tentacles sienna brown.
‘Round the pool people’s lemonades splashed from a cup,
but the unbiased Water Thief lapped it all up.

Long ‘fore that guests amazed scrambled quick for the gate
as the Thief’s stomach gurgled like he had not ate.
Yet his hunger appeased by the water so clear
while the pool party transformed to one of pure fear.

O the Thief looked a might on the corpulent side
with three eyes bloodshot red in a state of collide.
With a bulk like the blob he could move like a mink,
and the raw of his breath pushed our gag to brink.

There was hardly a smart phone in picture-take mode
since the panic prevailing achieved overload.
With the sight of the Water Thief, revelry stopped:
it was due to that sight many phone calls were dropped.

In the depth of the Earth where some aquifers burst,
it is there where the Thief can take care of his thirst.
Yet on this Independence Day, Thief-want was bred
to come up and upend my pool party instead.

He was born of the rain when the continents cooled
and was given a home where the fresh water pooled.
But as sea found a way to preside o’er this orb,
common groundwater Water Thief had to absorb.

In the night it is true he will rob with aplomb,
which is why him appearing that day seemed so wrong.
He mimed thirst twenty times like Sahara was he,
and his tongue swelled so much it was all one could see.

(There are legends about him, and this I have heard;
  that the tongue of the Water Thief can be absurd.
  There are stories of those who have felt tongue’s advance,
  and have washed all the way to the ocean’s expanse.)

Though the Water Thief ruffled my party all right,
it is said second chances provide a delight.
In the heat of these days, he arrives prompt at dawn
and, in spite of bad breath, he still waters my lawn.


40 Lines
(Anapestic Tetrameter)
Writer’s Cramp Co-Winner
7-9-19