Roly-Poly
Talking on the telephone, a mother missed her baby
Wait a sec, I’ll go and check
And call you back, Jack,
Maybe?
Walking down the passageway, she thought she heard a noise
She slid a paw around the door
And looked in on
Her boys.
She saw Bubs first, then Ben, who said, as she began to scold him
I didn’t pick up little Nick
I never did; I
Rolled him!
A Toddler of Renown
Young Malachy’s a biter
A toddler of renown
For whom bite is a transitive verb
And never just a noun.
And when he goes to bed at night
This is what you’ll hear –
“Goodnight, sleep tight, my little one
Don’t bite the bed bugs, dear!”
Crocodile Craze
My Uncle Bert brought home a crocodile
They travelled in the very best of style
Because he had no box in which to pack it
And trusted that it wouldn’t make a racket
He stepped aboard the train and found a seat
And tucked the beastie up behind his feet
(Although it was a juvenile Croc
He thought he’d save the Public from a shock)
His sons, when first they saw it, were ecstatic
But Mother’s disapproval was emphatic
“A crocodile?” she scolded, “don’t be daft, love!”
He said, “I plan to keep it in the bathtub.”
They soon found that, to fill their new pet’s belly,
They had to let his meat go slightly smelly
Perhaps this took the edge off their enjoyment
And made them want to find him new employment
However that may be, one thing is plain
They’ll not loan out their bathtub soon again!
Sheri-Ann O’Shea is a South African-born teacher, now living in Brisbane, Australia with her
husband and three lively boys.
Featured Image: “Deliverance” painting by Teresa Elliott.
These are treasures of seasoned craftsmanship, behind the humor which is utterly delightful, and dare I say refreshing in our cynical world. The authenticity of the domestic life shines through marvelously. The trick, the genius, shall we say, consists in the appearance of ease with which the tight economy of these smaller verse forms normally hinders. But Mrs. O’Shea has handled this concision to perfection. Much to learn here, even for a poet of long standing as myself. My compliments to the editorial board for these little gems which are really quite large in the memory.
My thanks for your appreciation. I delight in the challenge of fitting thought to form, and find that many curious results come of the word association game to which meter and rhyme oblige the writer.
Superb and succinct, Mrs. O’Shea. Being myself a brother of one, who, in his youth, sported innumerable chubby chins, and who was quite round to boot, and who loved to chew on corners of lacquered wood, and who me and my sister would have to transport places, I am especially enamored of “Roly-Poly.”
I am pleased to have touched a chord. What do we write about, but human experience?