Your Poetry Dot Com - His Strength

He was six foot- four, at three hundred pounds,
When it came to work, good to have around.
He could twist the bolts. He could screw the pipe.
He could lay the cast-iron, with all his might.
A shovel no problem, his hand clasped a pick
Could beat a “hoe”, digging a ditch.
All the girls around, tried to win his favor,
But he had no time, he had his savior.
She was five foot-five, thin as a rail,
Glanced from the side, favored a nail.
With the sway of her hips, she could make them feign,
Then, of course, her flowing mane.
Many a man, tried to win her favor.
She’d have none of it, she had her savior.
Thru life they walked, hand in hand,
He had his woman, she had her man.
Then came the day, they just didn’t see,
Tho he searched for her, it was not to be…….
He is six foot- four, at three hundred pounds.
When it comes to work, he’s gone to ground.
There’s no more bolts, no pipe to screw.
Forget the cast iron, for he is through.
The only ditch, coming his way.
Is a three by six by six, as they lay him away.

Hamp Nichols

This poem is Copyright ยฉ Hamp