Notes About The Poem

This form is based on a required number of syllables per line, rather than a rhyme pattern.

Mischief Maker

You are our parents' only son,
three sisters grew
and gave you guff;
you stood alone on constant guard,
in teasing vein and comic mien.

I am the sibling next in line—
the cagey one—
a boomerang who fed it back,
if you began to clown around
and play the fool.

We are astute and wiser still
than number three;
her stiff chagrin,
her will to win,
enhanced your fun.

But sometimes love allays the fume,
as baby four
supplied the balm,
restored accord,
inside our home.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2014

Poem

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Shaw Avatar
February 26, 2015 at 9:51 AM
Hi Cona, I really enjoyed this 'sibling poem'. It reminded me of my early years. Thank you for this precious poem; and the memories! Love & hugs, Kim
Adams Avatar
February 26, 2015 at 10:52 AM
Thank YOU, Kim, for taking the time to read, and for your kind words. All the best!
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