Silly Sunday

So just yesterday as I stood by my car (picking up husband and daughters from their trip, and putting an end to My Perfect Week) someone asked me for a piece of paper and a pen. After rifling through my briefcase for what seemed like an eternity yet coming up empty handed, I finally tore out page 45 from just one out of five never-quite-been published manuscripts penned by yours truly - this one from a book of expanded children's limericks called If a Word Rhymes with Silly.



And, since I freely shared page 45 with a total stranger yesterday, I thought I would share that same poem with you today.

The Reason that Francis Now Dances

There once was a young man named Francis,

who hailed straight from Wichita, Kansas.

He strongly desired,

to learn and acquire,

the moves to the new-fangled dances.

So Francis then made up his mind,

to master each step he could find.

He learned every move,

got into the groove,

and shagged every bump, hop, and grind.

He started with the Bunny Hop,

then added the Jerk and Bus Stop.

The Cha-Cha and Swim,

were easy for him

and so were the Time Warp and Bop.

And then our friend added the Twist

the Hitch Hiker - which used his wrist,

the Hammer, the Smash,

the Potatoes of Mashed,

and Monkey were next on his list.

And then came the Pony and Limbo

which left him all short and a-trimbo.

And then the display,

of the YMCA,

with limbs all aloft and akimbo.

And now our good friend we call Francis,

who hails from a town down in Kansas,

is a dancing machine,

and can always be seen,

around the town boppin' and prancin'!