Let Me… (The End) . Poem by Konstantin Ananin

Let me…” I began again
But was interrupted then,

“Twig? Ha-ha! Well-well. Why not?
It can be a fishing rod.

I feel like on a frying-pan,
And the wing can be a fan.

You said ‘wind’! The day is hot:
A hot wind is like a shot!

Well, instead of it and leaves
I’d prefer a cooling breeze.

What a fool you are to say
Of more beams on this bright day!

But I’d like to have a stream
To jump in and have a swim.

Meadows can comfort me
If I find a good big tree.

And its shadow not you
Is much better and will do.

I can’t say I will like you
In my bed or in the loo! ”

When I whispered, “Eiderdown, ”
She said, “Yes! You’re a clown! ”

Then she added, “And a noodle.”
And I cried, “You’re a poodle! ! ! ”

At that moment I forgot
That I liked her locks a lot.

“It’s my spade! ” I heard my shout,
“Give it back! You! Stupid cow! ”

“Oops! I’m sorry…” was too late
When she hit me with my spade.

“It’s my sand-box” was exhaled.
The next day she played with Dave.