Quirks
Some people frankly write about their quirks.
If I had any, I would tell you so.
Though no outlandish trait within me lurks,
some folks think I’m a nut. What do they know?
Why do they criticize when I engage
in conversations with myself. What’s wrong
with them? Also, they frequently enrage
me, looking shocked when I burst into song
while jogging through the neighborhood at night
clad in my red muu-muu and army boots.
I overhear them saying, “What a sight!”
I live around mean-spirited old coots!
My grandkids, too, think my behavior strange.
because I check the stove repeatedly
(I must be SURE it’s off!) and rearrange
my papers fifteen times. They’re irked at me
when I repeat myself five times a day.
I do this for THEIR benefit! They just
do not appreciate wise things I say.
One learns by repetition; it’s a MUST.
I surely hope I’ve made this crystal clear:
I have no oddball quirks; I’m truly blessed
with wholesome traits that, I feel, should endear
me to all those who criticize and jest!
FICTIONAL (well--some of it))
Date written and posted: February 6, 2018
Contest Title: Quirks Placed 5th (of ten)
Sponsor: Madison Demetros
April 10, 2019, entered in Richard Lamoureau's Poem of the Day Contest
When I received this honor--POTD February 8, 2018--I was over the MOON!
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