Sparse Poem by delilah contrapunctal.... yes, that's how I intended to spell it.........

chin whiskers
didn't slow that
joker down
he rode in
on
his Indian
cross-hatched
a tiller
of soil
and a planter of seed
fenced it in
tight
hopin' for foxfire
and tributes
from the other-than town's folks
up the loggin' road and past the bridge
it was a sing-song patter
and a cruciferous hatter
and a rageless platter
caused
the deer to scatter
while the sheriff's boys sang
with a dugong for a bride
in the sidecar
on the side
as the mission bell rang
there were allergies and lethargies
and squeamish bets on bended knees
from the pentecoastal honeybees
in the aprons of the yawning trees
she swore the thing was painted red
and that's what got her into bed
as for what has got her out
that judge, with whom her dad had clout?