My Uncle
He was about to leave,
but found time to advise:
'Diplomacy will do you good, ' he said
'Don't be like people who hit below the belt.
Me, I only go as far as the belt itself.'
Patting his six-shooter
tucked in it.
He saddled to his horse....
err, his bike, somewhat
to go to city haunts.
He loves the scene
the sins.
Long detained in farmer's life
he wanted out, sometimes.
Or in.
Places like Follies 69.
Not a good place
where to get farm help though.
The last one
most recent
she run off with a stag.
That's right- a male deer
which she sold
auction style.
'My boy, ' said uncle.
'Choose a lass with hindsight
and foresight.
Her one eye looking at the past,
while the other sees the future.'
But not many cross-eyed ladies
in our county, I suppose.
And none
quite beautiful enough.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
Added by Poetry Lover
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