SPINNING ON AN OLD CHAIR

Of all the awesome things in life,

This surely is the best:

The dizzy happiness from spinning too hard,

None other can contest.

The objects in the room run behind each other,

Only to never catch up.

Until your knee crashes in the table,

And everything stops with a hiccup.

All you need is a swivel chair,

The stuffing matters not.

Neither matters age nor colour

Nor does a full stomach, though it ought.

Unlike most other wondrous things,

This simple pleasure discriminates not.  

DESIGNER WOES

A waxen moon wrote to his mom,

And in the letter he said,

"Mum, I'm cold and naked all night long,

Please sew me a coat instead.

That sun goes out only in the day,

When the sky is deserted and warm.

Personally, I am almost sure he is gay,

For no star is ever near him despite his sunny charm.

Look at me I've grown so white,

For all the stars to see,

And I have to go out in the night,

With no clothes on, poor me.

On new moon night I have a day off,

Should I come down to you?

Any style you choose I swear I won't scoff,

Just sew me a coat or two.

His mom's reply was short and kind,

She pointed out a problem

That had not crossed his mind.

"Dear son", she wrote, "I would love to get you a dress,

But sorry, I am not that good a seamstress,

One day you are slim the other you're round,

How is a proper measurement to be found?

I do not know if you are fat or thin,

Your shape changes with your every whim,

So before you ask me for a coat,

You eat a lot or hit the gym.