"The Hole Story"

©1998 D. Burgdorf      (Return to "Poetry")

The hole dadgumed thing started by chance
And may have received just a casual glance
But Webfoot had holes in his swan carving block
And added, he had some holes in his sock.

Jud followed suit with, "There's holes in his roof"
Then mentioned his pockets ('tho nothing uncouth).
I continued to read and "heard" his voice say,
"OK Ol' Don, take it away!"

Seems that it's my turn after what I just read
And at times I think I must have holes in my head
But now here I am in contemplation
Pondering holes and their ramification.

I've reached a conclusion after thinking this through,
I'm now carving holes for something to do.
I start with a whole hole and whittle away
(You can do a hole carving in less than a day).

Carve big ones, carve small ones, crooked or straight.
They're easy to carry— they don't have much weight.
They don't need to be painted, don't give off a stench
And don't take up much room on the top of my bench.

I admit this hole thing could get out of hand—
There'd be hole carving clubs taking a stand
To carve a hole nine yards (a massive chore)
Or the hole shebang, if they wanted more.

Now that you've seen where this has led
I hope you'll consider all that I've said
'Cause that's the hole story, written forsooth.
You're now informed and know the hole truth.