Wednesday, June 6, 2012

The Potentate



The day of my birth was glorious! They called me trash, pre-birth!
Pieces of me had lain around, considered of little worth.
And then my master found them and carried them home with glee;
And, by riveting and hammering he'd soon created me.
I remember, on my natal day, I stood so proud and tall.
Human-beings were such puny things, beneath my feet and small.
I towered over everyone; I felt just like a King;
I was much more than human; I was more than a 'thing'.
They set me up at the roadside, for everyone to see.
And people began to bring treasures; they sort of worshipped me!
Old tyres, T.V.s and saucepans were piled-up at my feet!
I felt so very honoured; my life now felt complete.
The pile of gifts soon grew apace; bird-cages I liked best,
But I was happy with rusty taps, old tea-pots and the rest.
Then, lo-and-behold, a human, a silly little man,
Wandered up to my gift-pile and said 'This is my plan.......
We remove this terrible garbage and put up a little sign
Saying clearly 'Don't Pile Scrap Here', then things will all look fine.'
So, one by one, my treasures were piled into a cart!
My wonderful, wonderful presents, each one a work of art!
Of course, I still look regal and I know that you admire me.
But what's the next step, I wonder! 
Maybe you'd like to hire me!

supplied the first line of this limerick


A fellow was playing with fire
In the back row of Saint Matthew's choir.
As he drew Maisie closer
She said 'No no no sir!
I can't cope with too much desire!'

1 comment:

Monda said...

So regal! Love seeing your take on this prompt - always a fan of your rhymes!