Wednesday, February 24, 2010



    He's been thrifty with his praises
    All his life.
    He's been thrifty with the dough
    He gave his wife.
    Now he's going to retire,
    It's the cold he feels, not fire,
    'Cause he's been just too damned thrifty
    With his life.

    He was thrifty with his tolerance
    And tact.
    And humanity was one more thing
    He lacked.
    So it isn't any wonder
    That he feels he's going under,
    That the dice are loaded
    And the cards are stacked.

    If the Sermon on the Mount
    Means anything,
    Then we'll have to have him back
    Inside the ring.
    We don't have to call him 'dear’,
    But, let's buy the man a beer,
    'Cause he's just an old bee now -
    Without a sting.

Another poem GWF from the 1994 book "Verse you can read" - The chapter called 'On Pedagogy'

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