How old are you, the child asked me,
Old as dirt, really I’m just ninety-three.
The child smiled and said I’m also three,
I had spoken so softly, he only heard the three.
We walked and talked about three year old stuff,
How we hated food , which we called green stuff,
And that math taught in school must be tough,
Also we didn’t like playing with kids that are rough.
We stopped to play with friends that were pretend,
When we argued, our discord we’d quickly mend.
Also we loved to spit, even against the wind,
What a wonderful feeling, just having a friend.
Singing songs with words that are mostly made-up,
Then we would tell stories, so funny, we’d crack-up.
And discuss what we’d be whenever we grow-up,
Even though I’m ninety-three, the child had no hang-up.
Whether three or ninety-three we’re all kids at heart,
Even though it’s easy enough to tell us each apart.
It doesn’t matter, if old or young, dull or even smart,
It’s not the outside, that matters, but what’s in the heart
A contest entry
- Write something decent by Clockwork.
375 points, ended January 3, 2008, 36 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Up and Up do not rhyme. Rhymes are when the last vowel sound of the word and the rhyming word are the same until the end.
Like, back and crack.
Or whack and smack.
whack and whack do not rhyme. They are the same word.
Also, wind doesn't rhyme with mend, pretend, or friend.
This needs a lot of work before I'll even consider this your finished work. You can do a lot better than this.
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I think this is a wonderful piece, beautifully written with emotionally pulling imagery. You bring a smile to this readers heart.
Bravo
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