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