Napwrimo April 29, 23022
Today we were asked to muse on the gifts we received at birth. I did not take this one too seriously.
Of all the riches I could have had,
it wasn’t the premium bond from my dad.
He kept it for me for years and years,
but all our hopes ended in tears.
A guaranteed pay-out is what they said,
but only if the buyer’s not dead.
Not that it matters I had no luck,
in 60 years my number never came up.
Of all the gifts I got from my mum,
the best was “don’t give up, carry on son”.
Of all the things I was bequeathed,
it must have been my super strong teeth.
They were great for opening bottles of pop, then
gronching auntie’s pocket toffees made them rot.
Missives & Musings 
Congratulations, Graham on the feature. Very well deserved. Loved this poem. 🙂
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Hi Smitha, what a wonderful comment to wake up to, I haven’t checked today’s prompt so had no idea. Thank you very much.
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congrats on the feature!
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Thank you
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Congratulations Graham! A wonderful poem. “Bequeathing strong teeth”– ouch! Brilliantly crafted lines. I’m happy I was able to read your poetry this month. Stay well.
Visiting from: https://artismoments.blogspot.com/
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Thank you so much for that, I look forward to reaading more if yours in future. Step lightly.
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