Words of Wisdom From the Wandering Jew

A poem in rhyme on ‘calling names’, playful and conversational

Heads up, Heads up, my crew of crop!
With snug fit white polka dot crop top
& frilled, solid mustard, skirt in sway
Little Miss.Amaira comes our way
Heads up, Heads up, my crew of crop!

Oh! Her dark sulking eyes,
Unkempt hair with loose ties
A walk dead slow, looking lost
Sans a whistle, cold like a frost
Look at her, it’s a rather unusual sight—
Flora fellas, time to cheer her up bright!

                                  One day I’m Miss.Fat, the other day a spoilt brat
                                  Understanding me is never in their aims
                                  What pleasure does it give in calling names?
                                  Is my worth just that of a dusty doormat?

Listen, do you remember calling me "wandering jew"
And my tender friend beside, as "adamant creeper"
In an effort to help your friend identify who’s who?
Not to blame, not to shame, learn your lesson, however!

                                  Ignorance I may say, forgiveness I plead
                                  Let me know how ye greet me with smile
                                  Let me know how ye greet me with smile
                                  & gift me blooms whilst hurt’s what I seed?

Miss.Amaira, imagine name calling as a branch 
Just a part of life tree, why struggle & stay hung?
Tell me, if you were to judge from the banch
Is the mother-in-law’s tongue 
Any less calm than the peace lily
just ’cos they call it thus, all so friendly?

Let go, LET GO, there’s shade neath the tree
To sit & behold of blooms as you look up to see	
Let go, LET GO, there’s shade neath the tree
To sit & behold of blooms as you look up to see	


                                    I get, I get it! Yet after a while
                                   As I flail through misery’s trail
                                   I fear, fail & forget to smile
                                   When the dreams get shattered
                                   Where life ain’t anymore roses in bed
                                   I fear, fail & forget to smile

Oh dear, look at me, 
Today I talk with thee
& tomorrow I may die with a sigh
A weed like me, mushrooming in every pot
Is never given a place any high
I may wither or be weeded if they like me not
I still smile & talk to thee
Life is all about in the now — to be

Now come, let’s do our little dance
Sing and smile at every chance
Life is short, worth not to fear nor fret
Living in the moment is our only best bet

Now come, let’s do our little dance
Sing and smile at every chance

		
                  a twist and a turn
               watch the setting sun
         raising the arms up and high
     waving the sun, a see-you-soon-bye
                  a twist and a turn
               watch the setting sun
                        a whistle
                         a rustle
                 a spin and a wave
              together, our Miss.Fave
                    a twist and turn
               watch the setting sun
          rasing the arms up and high
    waving the sun, a see-you-soon-bye...

This post is a part of Blogchatter Half Marathon.