Monday, September 28, 2015

A POEM FOR MY BROTHER

My brother Phonse is a great hunter,

Put him in the woods and he will never go a-saunter.

He’s an avid fisherman and a rugged lumberjack,

Why, he’s so strong he could carry Paul Bunyan on his back.

A wonderful father to a daughter named Leeanne,

Even his wife, Nina, calls him a very loving man.

His house is filled with Leeanne’s and Nina’s stuff,

But his garage, well, getting in there is tough.

For it is filled with his needful things, all kinds of gadget and tool,

If they go in there, he doesn’t think it’s cool.

He is a man of few words, but don’t think he’s not wise,

And if you piss him off he’ll punch you between the two eyes.

He likes to plant potatoes, tomatoes, and the like,

I don’t think he’s too fond of owning a motor-bike.

He likes to walk through the woods with his family and dog,

And jump, and hop, and maybe play with a frog.

The peaceful and quiet life he does enjoy,

Oh, he has come a long way since being a boy.

He has turned into a fine man of moral and standards,

And for people he thinks highly of, he’ll bend over backwards.

So, to my brother, I want to wish a Happy Forty-One,

And wish I was there to get me some (cake that is).