When we arrive (with great fanfare—
Before we are at all aware),
We’re, one and all, completely bare,
And I don’t mean in disrepair,
Or simply lacking underwear,
But naked to the open air,
No wonder that our tempers flare,
And with our cries we fill the air,
I’m sure we say, “Put me back there!”
(Perhaps a baby curse or swear),
Demands for something warm to wear,
A dress or pants or soft footwear?
And so it starts, most everywhere,
For baby’s needs, we must prepare…
So to the store we will repair,
To clothe that little, wriggling heir!
But…
I think it’s such a strange affair
In later life, when we declare
“I haven’t got a stitch to wear”,
‘Tis only true our first day there!
Cause Mondays do get knocked a lot,
With POETRY, we all besought,
To try to make the week begin
With pleasant thoughts…
Perhaps a grin?
Have crafted poems for you to see.
And now you’ve read what we have wrought…
Did we help?
Or did we not?
Next week, we’ll keep it short and sweet,
Our favourite pictures. What a treat!
Next week, we’ll keep it short and sweet,
Our favourite pictures. What a treat!
Nice poem, and so true. Thanks for a huge smile.
ReplyDeleteI like your approach to the theme - slightly off-centre. And I'm impressed that you have managed to rhyme every line with apparently effortless ease. Bravo!
ReplyDeleteIt appears I can reach you again via your comments facility. I've missed being able to comment on others' contributions, and hopefully it was just a temporary glitch. Here is my poem for this week:
ReplyDeleteI have TWO wardrobes stuffed with clothes
Enough to dress me from head to toes
Five times over, maybe more,
Full from the top down to the floor.
Hangers crammed upon the bar
Sport trousers, dresses, skirts galore,
And from the floor up to their bottoms
Shoes and boots (some long forgotten).
You may think that I am spoiled for choice
But sometimes a needy little voice
Says, “No, it’s time for something new.
There is not one item here for you
That satisfies what you’re looking for.”
So off I go to purchase more
Dresses, trousers, blouses, socks
To squeeze into the diminishing cracks
Between the clothes already stored …
Blast it! I can’t shut the doors!
I stand well back and count the cost;
Some must go to the charity shops.
But before it goes, I’ll try on that dress …
Oh dear, I’m embarrassed to confess
Its sales ticket is still in place;
It’s not yet had chance to show its face.
And here, and here, the pile gets bigger
Of clothes unworn. Which serves to trigger
The question: Why, when I have ample means
To dress up or down for different scenes,
Do my fingers always seem to choose
The same old sweater, jeans and shoes?
Diane, that was great! Yes, my Sweetie is a clothes horse and is the one to complain about not having anything to wear when it's really just not wanting to wear what he has.
ReplyDeleteSpike's Best Mate, well done, indeed! We choose the old and familiar and comfortable, and maybe we should just stick to it.
Pictures sounds like a great topic for next week.