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Me

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Below is the poem entitled Me which was written by poet Charles Clive. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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Me

Oh, happy are the people who have loads of chums, both old and new, who stop and pass the time of day, or join them when they dine and play. And yet the luckiest, by far, are those who know this real star; a noble friend, a real mate; whom friends and neighbours highly rate. With head held high, a noble pose, the keenest ear, the sharpest nose, his curly hair, a lustrous brown, snipped at the best salon in town. Likewise, he’s known, both far and wide, for all the love he can provide. A ‘foodie’? Yes. But I prefer the sobriquet, a connoisseur. Sophisticated, debonair, a certain style, with real flair, a bon viveur, a social cog ….. But that’s enough about my dog! And me? There’s not a lot to say, I trundle on, the usual way, from here to there, with grunt and groans, supported by these creaking bones. ~
For Frank's 'Self Portrait' Competition.

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