POEMS

My son allowed me to share this poem I wrote him for his 21st birthday.

 

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ANSI AVEC ONE IMPRESSIVE SIMON-SON

 

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Once upon a time
a Simon and a dime
went rickety-rack
on many a track of joy –
to shop and grow,

So Simon-with-dime
had many a time
the chance to dye his hair so fair
in hues from black to Blair.

But after the BLAIR,
who wasn’t so fair,
the Simon never dared to wear
the Batman cape with tear
on beaches of long-gone Cape Town fair
where winds of change
had turned the range
of East Leakes’ Gran
to Shepshed fan
of Leicester in the leeway
of life – which has no freeway
for the non-golfers of change.

So Simon, with beloved dime,
went forth in search of precious time
to build the muscle
in daily bustle
of sport and shop, computer game
and maybe fame
of WI-pursuits in kinky boots.

Dear Simon had a German mother
to give up SMOKE she would not bother,
though Simons’ frown
had many a time,
because of dime,
been known to drown the nagging mother
who’s such a bother
in laser beams of silent screams
against addictions’ gripping hand
accompanying a moaning band
of vegetarian chorus munchers.
Thus Simon flew to Germany
as for himself he wished to see
the true extent
and full content
of mothers’ failing fortitude.

Simon, on arrival,
found time to be so civil
that Germany – to honour
the grand young knight from THE island,
created dishes of hairy eggs
afloat on mild oceans of oil and mustard wild.

So simon, after luscious ice cream
had all the time to plan to dream
of grandparents in dryer parts
where once he’d sat in hand-held carts
the better prepped for laughing.

Upon his bid
he found, o DREAD!
the fur of fluffy animals…..
and two appeared
as he had feared
to scratch and claw and bite him.
But late at night
to hide their spite
they purred and cuddled cunningly
to hide their wild ways wond’ringly.

So Simon and his dime
are now not pushed for time.
They sweat and and strain,
know not to sprain
the dime and the Simon
for LOVE!

to be continued……………

 

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