For no particular reason, this morning I woke up thinking about a poem I wrote more than twenty-five years ago in a book called THE BOY WHO COUNTED STARS. Among the comments to my blog and Facebook posts yesterday, someone mentioned that book so that must have triggered the memory. Anyway, for what it’s worth, here’s the poem, “A Brief Romance.” Also, for what it’s worth, I can’t get rid of the column of numbers running down the left margin, another frustration thanks to the recent overhaul by WordPress.com .
“Oh Mistress Hen, Won’t you let me in?” The fox asked With a foxy grin, But the hen said, “I’m too clever.” “I love you so,” He murmured low, “Just one little squeeze, And then I’ll go,” But the hen just cackled, “Never!” “Don’t make me blue, My sweet Baboo, I’d do anything for you,” But the hen said, “No you wouldn’t.” “My knees are weak, I can scarcely speak, I long to kiss Your lovely beak,” And the hen said, “I just couldn’t.” He winked and smiled, “My darling child, I’ll only stay A little while,” And the hen said, “We really shouldn’t.” At last the hen Let the fox come in, And no one knows What happened then, Though it only took a minute. I can only say, When she hopped away, Her tummy was round And it made her sway, And I think the fox was in it. (c) 1994 David L. Harrison