For many a year
It had attached here.
The sea a quasi-distant burble.
Occasionally lashed by an incontinent storm,
Or picked at by little fingers on a pre-school morn.
Happy, content, and fat
Yet a niggling feeling started to develop,
Whenever the waves would it envelop.
The limpet began to dream of distant shores,
And started to wish its rock had oars.
Even a distant atoll appeared exotic
When, with a red tide, the limpet went miotic.
And, yet, though its thoughts drifted with the currents,
It no more could leave the rock
Than be the English heir apparent.
For when it tried to twitch a muscle,
The only reaction was, to such an action,
Not even a shell-shuddered rustle.
For, as every schoolchild knows,
A limpet, once attached, never any movement shows.
See the eagle flying high?
Such a magnificent addition to the sky.
As though God himself,
Thought what the hell,
Let’s make this swell,
And let the bird ride high and free.
Now, son, take a careful aim,
So the sun isn’t in your eyes a-framed,
And let’s bag another.
Over a garbage bin,
Three bears sat down to din’,
Goldilocks came out,
Heaving swill with a shout,
And the bears found the feast a rapture.