No toy guns, no plastic replica of a lethal device
I was firm about it; no guns, life is sacred
Then a stick was slashed into a whippy sabre
The thrust and parry of the common hazel twig
Lego built with care can be transformed into a star
Wars blaster; don't worry mum, we are only killing
Robots
Ah, this made me laugh out aloud, it's exactly what happened to me! I was determined neither of my darlings would have gun toys. The day son-the-younger used his fingers to shoot me, I knew I'd lost the battle. Elder son is eleven, and hell-bent on a military career - how did this happen to me? And I've never got over the time I found him, aged five, playing 'crucifixtions' with lego men, after they learned the Easter story in school. You can't win!!!
ReplyDeleteSam, only just noticed your comment about this poem, and I love the image of your little son playing lego crucifictions, I can just imagine mine doing that...what can you do with boys!!!
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