The Hobbyist

The Hobbyist

He has a little secret;

You must know what it is.

He keeps it in the spare room –

It’s no one else’s biz.

He polishes it nightly,

He likes to see it gleam.

He feeds it most politely,

On cabbages and cream.

He sings it lots of slow songs,

And dresses it in silk.

He wants to make it grow strong:

He gives it malted milk.

He’s had it for a year now,

Minus a day or two,

But there’s no way or no how,

He can teach it the kazoo.

It’s a responsibility,

He’s got a lot there in his hands.

To offset it’s fragility,

He gives it rubber bands.

He’s made it his whole life’s work,

But he doesn’t miss a thing.

He considers it a right perk,

When it wraps itself in string.

I hope you understand now,

I’ve told what I can.

Please make no more demand now,

I’ll take you back where we began.

Cliff Lake 11/22/2023

CliffSongs