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 Category:  General Poetry
  Posted: December 2, 2019      Views: 33

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 ABOUT
RHYMELORD 

Yep. I'm old, impatient and pretty well set in my ways. I love traditional poetry which rhymes and has a distinct and constant metre. I was raised on a diet of Kipling and Coleridge, Masefield and Browning and sundry other poets of the old sc - more...

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Exceptional
This work has reached the exceptional level
Musings of a soppy great grandpa
"The Best" by rhymelord


Do cherubs ever come to Earth
to simulate a human boy?
Well, there is one I’ve known from birth,
who fills our hearts with love and joy.

And yet, behind that angel face,
beneath the blond and curly hair,
an impish soul betrays a trace
of mischief hanging in the air.

At times like this, as you’ll agree,
one should maintain a sober mien
and never, ever let him see
he really does control the scene.

But, Heck, he’s fresh, just out of bed
and crawls much faster than you walk.
You must be off your flippin’ head
if you expect he’ll stay to talk.

And so, he pulls a curtain down
and finds himself in disarray.
What do you do, you hapless clown?
You kiss his trembling tears away.

And so, with discipline enforced,
and Great-Grandfather’s pride intact,
the little devil charts a course
to find more things to be attacked.

And then, the doorbell rings at last.
His mother’s here. I say, “Goodbye”.
“And was he good?”, she has to ask.
“As good as gold”, you pertly lie.

Then, pleasant duty done, I doze.
Cherubic imps pervade my rest.
I pray whatever Gods dispose,
my great-grandson will have the best.

Author Notes
The photo is of my Great Grandson, who is also the subject of this poem. I wish I could say his looks came down the male line.
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

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