Sunday, July 29, 2012

A Question


And the question is......
(To be answered as an acrostic!)

What an unusual question?
Horribly tricky, I'd say.
Oh dear! I'd better get started.....
Don't want to sit here all day!
Often I've asked the same question
Yet never received a reply.
Only vague hints at an answer,
Usually just a bit wry.
The fact is, I haven't a notion;
How can I have any idea?
I'm too close to the subject, for certain.
Near, and yes, more than just near.
Knowing oneself isn't easy
Yearning for truth wastes my day.
Outward appearances don't help;
Useless to say yea or nay.
Am I good, am I bad, am I middling?
Reality says I'm all three.
Each one of us is such a mixture!
Besides, I'm too near me to see.
Regarding myself in the mirror
Each day is a bit of a bore
Now you ask me this difficult question!
Don't think I can take any more.
And, with that, she refused an encore!


On his death-bed Arthur lay, all still and white
And they doubted if he'd even last the night.
Neighbour, Family and Friend
Said 'Poor Arthur! It's the end!'
For his chances of recovery were slight.

Then he smelt a quite familar kitchen-smell!
It was something he remembered very well!
A cookie smell for sure!
It came wafting through the door!
A smell that all through life had rung a bell!

Arthur stirred himself and rose up in his bed;
'I must eat a final cookie!' Arthur said,
And he shuffled down the hall
Keeping steady by the wall,
Hanging on to life by just the merest thread!

In the kitchen, though his hand began to shake,
He decided which hot cookie he would take;
But his wife's voice rent the air.....
'Arthur Hudson! Don't you dare!
Don't you think of touching those! They're for the wake!'

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