Monk Monk
My son was of that age
when Ken dolls were the rage.
So I thought maybe one of them
would be the thing for him.
Long before Christmas day
my mom let him play
with an old ragged monkey
all hairless and really funky.
So, Monk Monk came into
the family, surviving through
many a Christmas for him
and two other little seraphim.
He was passed child to child
and if you really wanted one riled
just take that silly Monk Monk
and hide him under their bunk.
They slept with him and played.
At meals he was displayed.
Not being a chimpanzee
he had to drink their tea.
He knew if they misbehave.
At night he made them brave.
He helped them with the prayer,
as they awoke was always there.
Yes, poor ragged Monk Monk
stored later in a trunk.
My wife and I you see
just couldn’t break up the family.
Maybe one day a grand.
will see him and demand,
to reincarnate the magic
of a Monk Monk from the attic.
14 Dec 2010 For Linda Marie's "Toyland" contest
Copyright © Charles Henderson | Year Posted 2010
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment