When I was ten
Posted: Fri Feb 03, 2012 1:58 pm
our homework in our Poets group this week is "When I was ten" With silly heading you get silly poems.
When I was Ten.
Once upon a time, I can't remember when.
I think it must have been when I was pushing ten.
I was just a simple country boy doing what boys do.
Avoiding trouble from my siblings and I had quite a few.
Being one of ten you see, had its challenges by the day.
Step out of line with elders, and it was you who had to pay.
So steering clear of trouble, was a challenge to be met.
A survival of the fittest, that's where the bar was set.
At aged ten you don't have many attributes, that would help you win a fight.
I quickly learnt survival skills, and the one I used was flight.
If God gave me one thing good, it was the skill of running fast.
On more than one occasion, were the skills that made me last.
As kids we were a wiry mob, and I guess had differing skills.
Each out to prove they had potential, when it came to earthly thrills.
Those thrills were sort of macho points, to prove you were the best.
A ritual kind of staging post, and a challenge to the rest.
My big brothers were all experts, when it come to cracking whips.
They could do with both hands, like shooting from the hips.
They could do riding bare back like the movie cowboys did.
But alas 'twas not a skill I mastered, and I often whipped me lid.
I was pretty good at milking cows, and an expert at counting sheep.
Why you say those skills I had, Well I practised in my sleep.
Now don't jump to any fast conclusion, the milking bit was out.
I used both hands for counting sheep, and never touched my spout.
Life at ten was pretty tough for a country boy you know.
You had play the cards before you, if your mind was deemed to grow.
So grow I did, I did my best, and what you see is the result.
But if not for my running skills,my dad would have marked me as a colt.
When I was Ten.
Once upon a time, I can't remember when.
I think it must have been when I was pushing ten.
I was just a simple country boy doing what boys do.
Avoiding trouble from my siblings and I had quite a few.
Being one of ten you see, had its challenges by the day.
Step out of line with elders, and it was you who had to pay.
So steering clear of trouble, was a challenge to be met.
A survival of the fittest, that's where the bar was set.
At aged ten you don't have many attributes, that would help you win a fight.
I quickly learnt survival skills, and the one I used was flight.
If God gave me one thing good, it was the skill of running fast.
On more than one occasion, were the skills that made me last.
As kids we were a wiry mob, and I guess had differing skills.
Each out to prove they had potential, when it came to earthly thrills.
Those thrills were sort of macho points, to prove you were the best.
A ritual kind of staging post, and a challenge to the rest.
My big brothers were all experts, when it come to cracking whips.
They could do with both hands, like shooting from the hips.
They could do riding bare back like the movie cowboys did.
But alas 'twas not a skill I mastered, and I often whipped me lid.
I was pretty good at milking cows, and an expert at counting sheep.
Why you say those skills I had, Well I practised in my sleep.
Now don't jump to any fast conclusion, the milking bit was out.
I used both hands for counting sheep, and never touched my spout.
Life at ten was pretty tough for a country boy you know.
You had play the cards before you, if your mind was deemed to grow.
So grow I did, I did my best, and what you see is the result.
But if not for my running skills,my dad would have marked me as a colt.
- I'm impressed I only managed 3 at a time and still got it wrong more often than not