The Danger of Ill-Considered Birthday Presents

For his fifth birthday, Heathcliff 
Received a toy sword and sheath 
With bubble mixture inside from 
His absent-minded Uncle Keith. 

It seemed an ideal gift. 

Heathcliff tingled with pride, 
Blowing heavenly bubbles 
In the lugholes of his relations, 
As they beamed with adult adoration 
For a child achieving the easily achievable. 

But twenty six years on, at sea, 
Heathcliff was besieged by pirates 
With six foot sabres gleaming 
Like stainless steel cutlery. 

Alas, our hero's bubble sword 
Offered poor protection. 
An Uncle's birthday bungling 
Had doomed the lad to bloody vivisection.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2014

Poem

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Allison Avatar
April 9, 2014 at 5:52 PM
Very clever write Alex. Posted a Bronte collaboration poem today -seems me picking this one to read was meant to be with the Heathcliff connection. Hugs Jan xxx
Frankel Avatar
April 10, 2014 at 7:47 AM
Hi Jan thanks for reading .. have no idea why I chose that name for this poem :)
Horne Avatar
March 31, 2014 at 3:56 PM
LOL, had a chuckle at this witty write
Frankel Avatar
March 31, 2014 at 4:47 PM
thanks for reading Jack, Alex :)
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