The Stick
I would like to tell you about a stick,
That I inscribed with my name Robert.
I used this stick in many places,
Starting by conducting an imaginary concert.
The next day it became a magical wand,
And for a moment, a bad fly swatter.
After that a fishing pole,
That brought in fish from the water.
I used it to create a bridge for an ant,
And then as a lonely beating drumstick.
An itch, it took away from my back,
And then it brushed off a tick!
It became a fetching toy for my dog,
And a boomerang into the wind.
Secretly, I used it to stir the soup,
Oh, with dog slobber, it was a sin!
I held it up as a funny mustache,
Then it was a comb for my hair,
I tried to use it as a fan,
But instead it blocked the sun's beaming glare.
I was creative and drilled some holes,
And played it as a musical flute.
I'm lucky to have such a stick,
Cause I used it to fend off a newt!
Last I used it as a baton,
As I threw it way up into the air.
Cause it was caught by a bird,
Who took it away, oh what a dare!
2018
Copyright © Robert James Liguori | Year Posted 2021
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