Slugs in Love

Die Story ist eine typische fantasievolle und Übertriebene, kitschige Liebesgeschichte von den Amis. Aber irgentwei voll süss. Da wollte ich dich dran teilhaben lassen. Wenn du es nicht verstehst , fragt mich und ich erzähle sie dir. :)
Lesen und schwärmen.


Slugs in Love

Marylou loved everything about Herbie – how hi slime trail gleistened in the dark, how he could stretch himself thin to squeeze inside the cellar window,how he always found the juiciest tomato. Though she never spoke a single word to him – she was too shy – she thought about Herbie every morning and every night and most of the hours in between.

On Monday, while she grazed in the strawberry patch, Herbie filled
her mind and love poem filled her heard. She wrote it in slime on the watering can.

Strawberries are red.

Blueberries are blue.

Herbie is handsome.

Love,

Marylou.

The next morning, Herbie found it. He looked around. There were slready at least sixty slugs in the garden. Which one, he wondered, was Marylou?

Herbie decided to send a massage back. He wrote it on the garden hoe.

Marylou, which one are you?

Meet me here at half past two.

Yours truly,

Herbie.

But the gardener put the hoe away in the barn, so Marylou never saw Herbie`s massage.

One Tuesday, while Marylou was hiding from thesun in the ivy, she saw Herbie hiding under a stone, and a poem came immediately to mind. She wroe it on the wheelbarrow later that day.

The sun is shining all around.

It shines on field and tree.

But Herbie`s safe beneath a rock-

I wish he`d think of me.

Love,

Marylou

“Marylou loves herrrrrrbie!” teased Jethro on Wednesday morning.

Herbie blushed. “Who is Marylou? He asked, but Jethro didn`t know either.

Herbie sent another massage. This time he wrote it on a fence where it would stay put.

To Marylou:

You could make my life complete!

I`d love to meet someone so sweet.

Tell me where and I`ll be there.

Sincerely,

Herbie

But that afternoon it rained and his letter washed away.

Even when Marylou was sleeping, poems to Herbie filled her dreams. She woke early and wrote another poem.

Twinkel,

Twinkel,

Little star,

How I wonder

What you are.

Herbie, Herbie,

Handsome slug,

Marylou would

Love a hug.

Love, Marylou.

“That Marylou is some poet!”

Said Sammy.

“Do you know her?” Herbie

Asked excitedly.

“I think ahe`s brownish one,”said Sammy.

All day long Herbie searched for a brownish slug, but next to the brown dirt, they all looked message on the watermelons.

Your poems make me happy.

Your poems make me glad.

But I can`t find you, Marylou,

And that makes me feel sad!

Your friend,

Herbie.

But Marylou was in the squash patch that day and didn`t see Herbie`s note. She left another poem behind on the zucchini.

Herbie, you would make me

As happy as can be

If you`d just pay attention

And please, please notice me.

Love,

Marylou

Herbie was at his wit`s end. He had been noticing her! Well, her poems anyway.And he`d asked everyone he could think of it they knew her.”I think she`s the greenish one,”said Homer.

“I think she`s the pinkish one,” said Jodelle.

“Maybe she`s the one who likes tomatoes,” said Adelaide.

“All slugs like tomatoes!” said Herbie. But Adelaide had given him an idea. Herbie climbed to the top of the tallest tomato plant. On his way back down, he wrote a massage.

Look at me!

I`ve climbed so high

That Ican see

The world pass by:

Mice and ants,

An old black ahoe

But Marylou,

Where are you?

I`ve left you poems

Near and far

Won`t you tell me

Where you are?

Love,

Herbie.

And that night, when Marylou went out to snack on a tomato,she found Herie`s massage glinstening in the garden! What yoy!What gladness! What delight! Marylou could hardly contain herself as she hurried to the barn.

The next morning, the first thing Herbie saw was:

Your rhyme

Is sublime,

Herbie, dear,

I am here!

As always, when she saw Herbie, poetry filled Marylou`s head. She said:

“Herbie, I am Marylou.

We meet at last. How do you do?

Herbie was tongue-tried. Suddenly he felt shy.

But at last he blurted out:

I am find.

Will you be mine?”

Marylou and Herbie lived happily ever after.