Not a Sound



When I was a lad, and in my bed,
I would pull the blankets, up to my head.
From out of the closet, would come a noise,
it was the stirring of my toys.
The closet door would push ajar,
out would step the mighty Tsar.
Followed by his marching troops,
with their shiny buttons, and highly polished boots.
Then there was a buzzing sound,
it was my Tiger Moth, flying all around.
The pilot waving to the troops below,
shouting at the top of his voice, "jolly, jolly, good show".
The battleship sails across the floor,
fires its giant guns, blowing holes, in the wall.

Suddenly, Teddy stamps, and claps,
"Quick, quick", he shouts, go back.
The door opens, dad sticks his head around.
say's to mum," I told you so, he's fast asleep, there's not a sound"

~Tango~





Poetry by Tango
Read 687 times
Written on 2010-12-04 at 10:17

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John Ashleigh
It's like a fond memory of childhood to me. How our imaginations cast so vividly. A pleasure to read.

Regards,
John.
2010-12-04


countryfog
I'm going to share this with my grandsons.
I don't often write rhymed verse, as my rhymes often sound forced. That is definitely not a problem for you, an art not many of us have.
2010-12-04