When I was not more than a tadpole, of three,
My father used to sing a song for me.
It went something like this—
I lost my arm in the Army
Lost my leg in the Navy,
Lost my nose—
In the dirty clothes,
And found them
In the gravy.
My head would begin to wobble,
My shoulders would start to weave,
Soon I would giggle, as he grinned at me.
When I was not more than a tadpole, of three.
At fifty-three, I now sing this song
To my son of nearly three,
And laugh hard and long,
As, my little guy
Wobbles, weaves, and
Giggles with me.
Though my father is now long gone,
My heart does not grieve.
As his memory still lives on
In the stories I weave,
And a silly song
He once sang.
When I was not more than a tadpole, of three.
—July 12, 2004
(Edited August 15, 2007)
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2 wisecracks:
Cute poem!
That is a great poem!! thanks so much for posting it and I'm so happy that you joined us!!
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