My hair is getting longer than
I care to let it get
But my teeth get brushed
And I shower in a tap
Near by every morning.
I haven’t seen a razor
Since I’ve left my sheeted bed
But I know life’s just right
The way I ride
An iron horse
Through the day’s open sky.
I’m on the run for bits of fun
And lots of seriousness
To find my own
In a land far off
Where I’ll know no one again.
I eat my meals by picnic bench
And chop my food with a pocket knife
And fall to sleep nearly every night
As the sky says it’s goodnight.
Tag: pocket knife
Pocket Knife (day 2272)
A handy man should always have
A pocket knife by his side
No better friend in times of need
Could come to be at the ready
Rope was made for just the tool
So was whittling by the fire
And opening each bag of tools
Was fit just for that knife’s service.
Eager was the folding knife
Tucked away discreetly in thy pocket
So, then, was the fixed blade
Attached at a leather belt secure
To become of such valiant service.
For each man holds on to their tools
In which way feels right to them,
So no man shall defame a man
Who holds a knife at the ready
A handyman recognizes a good man
Who keeps a pocket knife ready for service.
But just as important for the handyman
A sharp blade makes one smile
A stone that keeps a blade able
For any task that rests at hand
No handyman should relax as if
Their blade be forever sharp
It is forever right that a handyman keep
Beside every dressing table to thy name
A handyman should keep right there
A handyman’s sharpening stone.