Me and My Recorder (A Story) by Marcus Ten Low

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I picked-up my recorder
and started blowing loudly,

a tootle-oo and tootle-ay
while Dad was snoring proudly;

I leant over his breathing chest
to listen to his heart,

then went outside playing my tune
as stars lit-up the chart;

I stood on tiptoe, eating grapes
on this side of the neighbor’s fence;

and played my pipes, until their dog
emerged in their defence;

but as I stood under the stars
and played my pretty song,

the dog stuck-out his wet old tongue,
and then began to croon along—

and all the cats hidden among
the roses then pricked their sharp ears,

until I’d played my last this night—
the cats and dogs (with no more fears)

slept soundly then, but woe, alas,
my Dad came-out to yell and scream

at me for waking him, and he awoke
the cats and dogs, and then
I woke-up from my dream…

Photo from Pexels by Alexas Fotos