My Minion
Almost In the style of A.A.Milne, "Market Square"
I had a dollar
a brand new dollar.
Mum gave me a dollar
for cleaning the hall.
I took my dollar, my fine bright dollar,
straight to the book-shop, and asked them all.
"Have you got a minion, a slave, or a servant,
'cause I really am tired of cleaning the hall."
But they didn't have minions,
at least not real ones,
and story book minions
are no use at all.
So I took my dollar down to the bakers,
and showed them my dollar, and asked them all,
"Can you make me a minion, 'cause I really need a minion.
I need a minion to do my chores and all."
But the baker couldn't make minions,
at least not real ones,
and ginger-bread minions
are no use at all.
So I went to the shop where everything's a dollar
and said, "I need someone at my beck and call,"
but they wouldn't sell a minion, no matter how small,
they didn't have a minion -- not for any price at all.
I trudged home with my dollar,
and I slammed the door,
and I stomped to the kitchen
when I heard my mother call --
"Would you like a sandwich? A rainbow-sprinkle sandwich?
I've cut the crusts the way you like them most of all."
That's when I knew I had a minion, my very own minion,
I'd always had a minion, after all. A.J. Ponder
This was a for a certain friend, who remains anonymous who was complaining there was not enough rhyming poetry. You know who you are :D
