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Losing stuff (An Ode to St Anthony)

Today’s topic was suggested by Wendy, for whom it is apparently very topical!  The poem starts off with vague pretentions to grandeur but that soon wears off (that’s Wendy’s influence I expect…!)

~ ~ ~ 

I’m sure I had a thought but now it’s gone
Before my mind could let it take full shape,
It will forever stay a thing half formed
Unwilling or unable to escape.

I’m sure I had my keys right in my hand,
I picked them up before I left the house!
Now I’m locked out – I just don’t understand!
I’d better get my phone and ring my spouse…

I’m sure I put my shoes back in that box
When I got home from work this afternoon,
But now I’m in the garden in my socks
hanging washing out beneath the moon.

I’m sure I left my diary over there –
I had it out while I was on the phone,
But now it’s disappeared, I don’t know where.
My pencil’s there still, pointedly alone.

I’ve tried mnemonics, post-it notes and rhymes,
But all those tricks were never quite enough
To counterbalance my forgetful mind
So I expect I’ll keep on losing stuff!

(c) Rich Clarkson, 2016

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