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