THE JIGSAW
I don’t wish to lay down the law,
But a jigsaw –
What is it for?
Yes, I know it’s a test,
You can call it a quest,
A puzzle at best.
No doubt it’s extremely tactile,
And it can your senses beguile,
But really, is it worthwhile?
Well, I thought by-and-by
I’d give it a try,
Show I’m the wise-guy.
So I planned one long Sunday
I’d sit down and play,
Show my family the way.
Well, I found out the hard way
It by no means is child’s play,
For to my dismay,
After one hour’s play …
I’d hardly got started.
All wisdom departed,
Leaving me broken-hearted.
‘Cos the task was too hard,
It had caught me off guard.
I felt like a retard.
My worry increases
What, one thousand pieces?
I couldn’t get going,
My tears they were flowing,
My nose wanted blowing,
My hubris was showing.
It was terribly tough.
I had thought I could bluff,
Thinking – only kid’s stuff;
But that wasn’t enough,
And my theory was certainly challenged;
My ego was massively damaged;
I ended up mentally ravaged.
I found it defied explanation
It sure gives a losing sensation
I say that without hesitation,
After that, my first visitation.
So I called on my grandson aged nine,
With a visage so calm and benign,
But the offspring of old Frankenstein,
Soundly he did me outshine.
Those little irregular pieces,
His ability to fit them increases,
His eyes move like lightning to find
Pieces that he then combined.
To me he said, “I’m not being unkind,
But I leave you so far behind.
It’s a pity you say you’re so good,
You’ll never reach grandparenthood
If you can’t fit together some wood.”
In his confidence he slotted them in,
I could see I never would win.
So I buried my pride,
Let him take me for a ride.
I finally got him to agree
That for just a very small fee
He’d let everyone see
How slick I could be –
A devilish Jigsaw devotee.
Roland's Ragbag 