Gerald Greene | + Follow Poet |
Rhyme | + Fav Poem | Comment | Email | Print |

The Convention

This year's convention was perfectly planned
 and held in a beautiful place.
New York was the venue where everyone went
 that had enough good hotel space.

Three brothers did come together this year
 who shared a room in a hotel.
They had a good time while they were together
 as meetings were going quite well.

The third day they went on a short field trip.
 Long Island was where they did go,
to visit a major competitor there
 and learn how their business could grow.

The field trip was great, they all did agree.
 It gave them ideas and when
they talked about what they had witnessed that day,
 they wished they could do it again.

When back in New York that very evening, 
 they parked their old van in a lot,
then went to their hotel and were quite surprised
 to learn that the power was out.

They thought of the stairs, in great disbelief.
 What were they now going to do?
Their room was up on the seventy-fifth floor,
 that had a most wonderful view.

But that many floors is quite a long way, 
 a long way they all three agreed,
and if they could make it somewhat interesting, 
 perhaps they could climb it indeed.

John whistled aloud for twenty-five floors,
 then Joe began singing a song,
and when they relaxed after floor forty-nine,
 they wished the steps weren't quite so long.

Now it was Ron's turn, a story to tell,
 while climbing the last group of stairs.
Just twenty-five floors remained to be conquered,
 and then the success would be theirs.

Ron then remembered, alas much too late.
 Now he knew, but wished he knew not.
The key to their room was not in his pocket,
 but in the van, parked in the lot.

Copyright © Gerald Greene | Year Posted 2016

Please Login to post a comment