the Broken Crock

The old bean crock held back the front door.
Many a beans he had cooked and stored.
Then one day the load was too much.
A pot of beans took a hard plunge.

A touch of glue and the pieces stayed in place.
Now there are flowers coming out of him now.
When the air begins to turn cold,
By the fireplace he takes his rule.
I also hold a collections of things inside.
Ever so often there is money added for weight.

How he holds it all secure.
It is nice to know he is again dear.
For he has been in this place for so many years.
Someone new came to call.
Once again put on the shelf on the wall.

  4-14-2003

a little further down as new shows up.
Then a little down he went.
Finally there was a lack of shelf again ker-plop.
He landed up against the wall.
A silent scream about what was to be done.

So many pieces. he can't be saved.
Flowers, coins, papers,and pieces in a heap.
Then a voice said, "My Lucky day."
He took what I held and went away.
Now just the pieces and junk are on the floor.

A broom now sweep him away.
Where is that sticky stuff called glue.
Is he too much work to save?
I am just too far from new.
Yea! he is saved for another day.

After glue they took paint to cover over me.
He look like patches all the time.
Now he is on the floor to stay.
At the fireplace he holds long matches night and day.
At least he is still on display.