Tuesday, September 17, 2013

I Lost My

I once had a black and blue kazoo
All pretty and shiny like new
And when I had nothing else to do
I would play a merry tune on my kazoo

I took my kazoo everywhere I went
Some days I’d play till I was spent
Easy to maintain it never cost a cent
One time it even helped to pay my rent

To the zoo I traveled one summer day
And on a wooden bench I sat down to play
Not long after a handsome gent came my way
“You play very nice”, he took the time to say

He joined me on the bench and we had a talk
Until a gaggle of geese nearby began to squawk
Then up in the sky we saw a hawk
And the gent asked if I’d like to walk

We stopped for lunch our hunger to sate
He said, “I’d like to know you, my name’s Nate”
Then the gent he asked me for a date
I said, “No thank you, I have to go it’s getting late”

When I got home I was feeling blue
Reached into my purse for my kazoo
It wasn’t there, I cried boo hoo
Then dumped everything out as women do

I felt my pockets both left and right
But my kazoo was nowhere in sight
I tried and tried with all my might
But I could not sleep a wink that night

Next morning I ran to the zoo real early
My hair all flat no longer curly
And I did my best to not sound surly
When an attendant asked, “Can I help you girly?”

Resolute to find it, that was my chore
I traced my steps from the day before
I searched and searched and searched some more
Till a dreaded feeling seeped deep into my core

On the bench I gave a sigh
I softly asked, “Why God, why oh why?”
Tears trickled as I began to cry
I paid no mind to the passersby

A soft voice said, “Why so blue?
Tears are not becoming of you”
I responded, “I lost my kazoo
It was like a friend true and true”

“Let it go, just let it be”
He said sitting down next to me
It was then that I could see
He was the same gent smiling happily

We looked here and there and all around
But my kazoo was not to be found
Somewhere I had lost it on the ground
And no longer would I hear its sound

What happened next is too strange to be true
He moved his foot and scraped against my kazoo
Stuck in the soft black dirt it no longer looked new
And just then overhead a beautiful hawk flew

Stuffed with dirt it was mute when I blew
I shook it real hard but the dirt was like glue
Handing me a twig, I took it and said, “What shall I do?”
He smiled and said, “Stick it up your kazoo”

Chelle Munroe©
September 17, 2013

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