Oh roll of thunder hear my cry
I just got a dirt clod in my eye
A hundred feet they beat asunder
Atop my centipede of wonder
Never do I turn my head
For falling off’s my biggest dread.
Not that I’d have far to fall
For a centipede’s not tall at all
But his feet, my dear, are a hundred numbered
Yet he never finds himself encumbered
He ties his shoes so they don’t come loose
With a slip-knot, square-knot, half-hitch noose
Until next time . . . I love you
6 thoughts on “My Mighty Steed’s a Centipede”
Earwigs – you really must do one about earwigs. I had one as a pet as a child. It’s name was Eric!
Earwigs! HA! That earwig poem is just lying there out in poetry ether calling to poets everywhere to use it and yet no one is willing to take it on. But I can see a whole franchise around your pet earwig, Eric. You must do something with that Mike!
“Linda dear, you make edward leer, seem a tad austere.”
My husband and i had to write a letter to our son’s teacher who has taught for 5 years, so we set forth to right a pome together. You would have been proud. It was a might fine marriage of wit and words!
Sandy, thank you so much for that wonderful comment comparing me to Edward Leer. (I had to look him up as I have never heard of him before!) I would dearly love to read the marriage of wit and words you and your husband wrote to your son’s teacher. (I hope you made a copy for his scrapebook!)
I just received my latest shipment from Drugs R’Us, with the newest mind-altering substance for me to test; it’s a good thing it was a good sample, or I’d have busted a gut…. As it was, I merely used up a half-box of Kleenex wiping the tears of laughter from my eyes….
Practicing for next year’s Bulwer-Lytton contest, my dear? I think this would be too good for it, though; it does actually rhyme!….That would probably disqualify it as a serious entry…
Good poem though…. I can see, in your hands, poetry opens even MORE possibilities to be twisted in your head than does the average piece of prose…. Bonus!…
Have fun with it, as I’m sure you shall….
gigoid, the dubious
Thank you so much for those kind words oh dubious one! Using up a half-box of Kleenex is always the better alternative to busting one’s gut unless one coincidentally needs an appendectomy at that precise moment and really, how often does that happen.
I always enjoy your insightful comments — And I hope you have a really nice Christmas, Ned!