I often wonder at
My year's as a child
Why my uncle don
Avoided me
I wonder if
It be the bull ant's
In his bed
Or the dead prawn's
In the pocket's of his vest
Maybe it was
The large green frog
That sprang out of his letter box
Or perhap's the three inches
Cut of his trowser leg's
That made him look taller
Could of been the double bunger
Under his car
He still appears nervous
When we meet
He gives me half a smile
Half a pat on my back
He check's his chair
Before he sit's
Yes, i forgot about that one
Everone would love to have
An uncle don
I know i did
Written sunday 21 november 2004
Allan James Saywell
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/uncle-don/
