Playing Hooky

by James Moody

A coughed complaint, “I think I’m sick”
Though Mother knows that it’s a trick
She listens as if heard anew
And when my pleading scheme is through
Her scolding words of scorned assent
Are never held to be as true
Cause in her heart she does relent
As I always know she’ll do

Big Brother with his own approach
Appeals to gain without reproach
Consent the same as is for me
A warm spring day that’s school free
Yet still lessons will be learned
Though not in class where we should be
But by exploring the day’s concern
No one else but Bro and me

The old gray barn becomes our fort
A bastion of unmatched import
Where encompassed by an imposing foe
We bravely battle, myself and Bro
And when it seems that all is lost
Though neither willing that we let go
Too dear we know will be the cost
Except we try we’ll never know

Images of our conjured rivals
Those we fight for our survival
Quickly vanish like winter steam
“Hey Brother did you hear something?”
Before an answer it comes again
No it’s not a daytime dream
Grandma says “It’s time, come in!”
“And get your hands lunchtime clean”

We sat in silence, my Bro and me
Neither knowing what was to be
Sandwich finished and milk gone too
I didn’t sense the day was through
Without a word we rose to leave
When Grandma caught me by the sleeve
“I think you boys should be ashamed
Missing school to play your games”
In that instant the mood was lost
The scold from Grandma came at a cost
Brother wandered off to his room
I followed him but not too soon
A nap was all that we would get
Cause Grandma said “You boys are sick!”




James Moody's picture

ABOUT THE POET ~
I am age 67, a retired construction worker., Father of 5., Grandfather of 16, great grandfather of 2., Enjoy reading and writing, mainly poetry., Enjoy music of every kind.


Last updated April 04, 2016