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Rated: E · Poetry · Children's · #1151092
A boy and his toy.
AL & OLD MAJOR


Al was a boy,
Who lived in the city.
With his parents, his brother,
And Buttons, his kitty.

Every weekend,
They’d jump in the car.
To get to their cabin,
They’d travel so far.

Over hilltops and rivers,
And valleys and creeks.
Through forests and meadows,
And mountainous peaks.

Always Al’s face,
Showed off a great smile.
For they would be closer,
With each passing mile.

And when they’d arrive,
He’d go for a run,
With Hunter, his brother,
They’d have so much fun.

Climbing up trees,
Or catching some snakes.
Or taking a dip,
In one of the lakes.

They’d play in the fields,
With grass to their waist.
While dust in their teeth,
Was all they could taste.

There was more one thing,
That Al did enjoy.
It was very clearly,
His favorite toy.

Its name was Old Major,
And it was a Jeep.
And Al would fly past,
With a BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!!!

Old major was small,
But boy was it tough.
The Jeep it was made,
Of unbreakable stuff.

The body was green,
With a star on the hood.
When Al was driving,
He was up to no good.

He’d fly ’round the cabin,
And just miss his brother.
Then get a stern word,
From his very dear mother.

He’d zig and he’d zag,
By stumps and through sticks,
And launch off of jumps,
So he could do tricks.

He’d zip down big hills,
With a bang and a clatter.
Old Major kept going,
It did not seem to matter.

As years went by,
Al continued to play,
With his Jeep at the cabin,
The very same way.

One day Al’s parents,
Decided to move.
Needless to say,
Al did not approve.

So off they went,
To this faraway town.
But for years and for years,
Al continued to frown.

It did not seem long,
Before Al grew up.
He suddenly had,
5 kids and a pup.

And every summer,
They’d go on a trip.
To beaches and theme parks,
Or sailing on ships.

But then one summer,
They did not have a plan.
Until Al thought of something,
To do with the van.

He paused, then he looked,
At his children then smiled.
They’d drive to the cabin,
Where he played as a child.

So off they went,
Through valleys and creeks.
Through forests and meadows,
And mountainous peaks.

When they arrived,
And looked all about,
Al told them stories,
Of when he was a sprout.

Al then saw something,
In the side of his eye.
He swiveled his head,
And let out a sigh.

There by the cabin,
All covered in dust,
And weeds, and leaves,
And years worth of rust,

Sat Old Major, his Jeep,
By an old bale of hay.
Just sitting there waiting,
For Al to come play.

A smile crossed Al’s face,
As when he was a boy.
He now showed his kids,
His favorite toy.

And as they lay down,
And fell off to sleep.
He told his kids tales,
Of him and his Jeep.
© Copyright 2006 Shaved Chimp (shavedchimp at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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