Something Borrowed On The Blue...

Something Borrowed On The Blue

There was a little boy

who played with his little toys,

and his mother scratched her forehead.

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“Whatever will he be,

Perhaps he’ll be like me:

illiterate and bored?”

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What she couldn’t see,

was he grew to be like me,

parched, thirsty , and quite torrid.

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What made him act like so

I really do not know;

our boat now long’s been shored.

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We’d both gone out to sea,

that son of mine and me,

a sailing in the boat we had just borr’ed.

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We didna catch a thing.

The sun it did us sting,

Especially him who oar’ed.

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Now after so much beer,

and shedding many a tear,

Our spirits have finally soared.

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Tomorrow we try again,

but not where we had been.

Toy boats have made fishing horrid.

Copyright 2012 Demas W. Jasper All rights reserved.