Tuesday, 27 May 2014

My son

If my son ran the show:


There would be tractors everywhere, digging just for fun;

There would be Hoovers vacuuming as a background soundtrack hum.

Language would be made-up and ever so musical,

Every little word and sound, new and magical.


There would be endless giggling coming from every corner of the universe;

Books would be edible and so would just about everything else.

There would be happiness and peace and, yes...


...There would also be crying, but it would short-lived,

and tiny tears would roll over yummy cheeks

only to sink into a smile of tiny teeth.


If my son ran the show

We all would eat on our feet

If my son ran the show

Mamma would never sleep.


Wait a minute...

My son already runs this show of which I speak.

Copyright © Francisco Rebollo 2014





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