The pieces are assembled,
the trap awaits...
the cage hangs precariously
above the Swiss cheese,
or is it Gouda?
It doesn't matter,
Jeffy thinks it's all funny
and he pays no attention
to the rules of the game.
He only wants the ball to roll,
and the swings to swing,
and the anvil to drop
and the cage to fall
trapping the mouse
which makes him giggle.
The Game of Life is too mature for him,
he's only four years old,
but Mousetrap is perfect...
just like his mom who's beauty lies
in her girlish smile and squeaky voice
who makes a better mouse than Minnie.
His mother has played the game of life,
but she has never surrendered to its rules.
She only knows that life goes on
and she is young...
as long as Jeffy is happy.
A child's happiness is mother's happiness making her trapped in youthfulness..good10+++
'and she is young... as long as Jeffy is happy.'...two lines which engraved on my memory! Strange... How do you know this feeling, the fine relation between both things youth of mother and happiness of child - you are not a woman. Are you? :)
What a gorgeous scene you painted here in words. The sentiments are spot on, I can see the childlike innocence in this and the evermore serious undertone of the 'game of life'. Agree with Goldy, creativity at it's best. HG: -) xx
Satire and lyricism … advances by 'game rules' Beautifully …
Extreme creativity ~ you've displayed, vicariously. I loved this game growing up. best care, sjg
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Something about this poem, almost made me cry. Really something about it, so beautiful.