Be your own kind of beautiful
Posted: Sat Nov 12, 2022 10:44 am
I thought I'd have a second go at the homework prompts just because I can and I am bored 
Be your own kind of beautiful .. © Maureen Clifford
The #ScribblyBarkPoet
My Mother had a baby - not good looking like me
it's ears stuck out and it was bald - fell from the ugly tree.
Yet people when they saw her said - 'She's beautiful, she's cute'
I used to think they were as barmy as a bandicoot.
That kid I have to tell you did nothing but sleep and eat,
and other things unmentionable which I won't repeat
and whilst my Dad would often ask of me his eldest son
when I was just ignoring him 'Are your ears painted on?
Of course that was rhetorical - for one could plainly see
they weren't - although they didn't stick out like the new babies.
At other times I'd hear him say ' that new kid needs a throttling
to stop its screaming' Unlike me - Dad claims my bloods worth bottling.
I was always my Dad's best mate till this one came along
and now Dad seems distracted - I am not sure what is wrong.
Perhaps he is just tired for that kid it screams all night
and Mum is always cranky now - I can't do nothing right.
I wonder if I put an ad up in the local paper
alongside working dogs for sale - would somebody come take her?
She wouldn't do a Melba - that I can guarantee
and somebody might like her if the price was right - that's free.
Mum says that she will grow on me. Would that be like a wart?
Dad says we must have patience - she'll get better - I just snort
for I've seen chickens with more brains that his scrawny little tyke
and she needn't think when she grows up, she'll get to ride my bike.
Still life goes on my Grandpa says - He claims she's just like me
when I was just a little tacker bouncing on his knee.
He says that she will grow up soon enough and then I'll find
how great it is to have a sister, sweet, caring and kind.
I hope he's right - I'm ready for this responsibility?
Perhaps I need to think it through - I'll go think in my tree
'Catch you round like a rissole' Grandpa yells as he departs
amidst a cloud of dust , the Holden, misses, fits and farts.
He was right ...... it's five years later and my sister is my mate
we do most things together - we're a team - Co operate..
We rise early and Mum barely sees us from dawn to dusk.
Mum has had another baby - but not good looking like us.
Be your own kind of beautiful .. © Maureen Clifford
The #ScribblyBarkPoet
My Mother had a baby - not good looking like me
it's ears stuck out and it was bald - fell from the ugly tree.
Yet people when they saw her said - 'She's beautiful, she's cute'
I used to think they were as barmy as a bandicoot.
That kid I have to tell you did nothing but sleep and eat,
and other things unmentionable which I won't repeat
and whilst my Dad would often ask of me his eldest son
when I was just ignoring him 'Are your ears painted on?
Of course that was rhetorical - for one could plainly see
they weren't - although they didn't stick out like the new babies.
At other times I'd hear him say ' that new kid needs a throttling
to stop its screaming' Unlike me - Dad claims my bloods worth bottling.
I was always my Dad's best mate till this one came along
and now Dad seems distracted - I am not sure what is wrong.
Perhaps he is just tired for that kid it screams all night
and Mum is always cranky now - I can't do nothing right.
I wonder if I put an ad up in the local paper
alongside working dogs for sale - would somebody come take her?
She wouldn't do a Melba - that I can guarantee
and somebody might like her if the price was right - that's free.
Mum says that she will grow on me. Would that be like a wart?
Dad says we must have patience - she'll get better - I just snort
for I've seen chickens with more brains that his scrawny little tyke
and she needn't think when she grows up, she'll get to ride my bike.
Still life goes on my Grandpa says - He claims she's just like me
when I was just a little tacker bouncing on his knee.
He says that she will grow up soon enough and then I'll find
how great it is to have a sister, sweet, caring and kind.
I hope he's right - I'm ready for this responsibility?
Perhaps I need to think it through - I'll go think in my tree
'Catch you round like a rissole' Grandpa yells as he departs
amidst a cloud of dust , the Holden, misses, fits and farts.
He was right ...... it's five years later and my sister is my mate
we do most things together - we're a team - Co operate..
We rise early and Mum barely sees us from dawn to dusk.
Mum has had another baby - but not good looking like us.
