With A Wife, Life, And Kids Here Below
How much of life is "the luck of the draw"?
Nonsense or Narrative?....
There once was a man from Glendenning
Who lived so long he was bending.
He came to the point with all bones out of joint,
And sad to say ‘twas his ending.
There was a girl from Darbyshire
Who felt she had nothing at all to fear.
She went on through her life, never becoming a wife,
And now you know full well her story drear.
There was a young lad from Brandywine
Who oft disappeared with his fishing line.
He went to a stream for the fish of his dream,
And caught it at last with a ball of twine.
The mother of the lad was the wife of the dad
So disjointed and bent in late life.
As mom of the daughter who was a bird spotter,
She lived content ‘til the wine was all spent,
(And the fisherman son got a life.)
The truth of the story, each moment of glory,
Is seen in its outcome mundane.
The daughter’s sought birds deprived her of words
To tell such a story so plain.
So if you relate this story of their fate
To persons not knowing this tale,
They’ll sure want to know why you tell it, and so
Say you “heard it from someone in jail.”
Lives there are such as these, not intended to please,
Just happening as things seem to go.
Except for our luck, in their rut we’d be stuck,
With a wife, life, and kids here below.
© 2012 Demas W. Jasper All rights reserved.
Nonsense (but fun) poetry....
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