WHEN I WAS SIX
"He dropped his gold watch to the floor,
It mattered to him not a bit.
If that had happened to my watch,
I surely would have had a fit.
Because a watch that toils away,
Telling time both night and day,
Surely feels bad when you say,
'I'd have bought a new one anyway.'"
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"A mother and her only son
Would think it really jolly fun
To eat a thirteen-day-old bun."
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LOL! Yeah, I know this is kind of stupid, but I think of it as being in the same genre as that great Irish poet from "The Joyce Country" in Ireland--James Joyce--and his "Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man," in that I loved his first chapter when, at the age of four, he was sitting under the kitchen table and thinking to himself as a four-year-old might. So, if you hated the poems from my "baby days" you should consider the fact that other authors have gone back to their early childhood memories in the writing of their later novels. As my Mom used to say: "It is what it is."
Have a good day, my dear readers!
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