The day started nice, with a marble rolled thrice, cause do overs were part of the game.
And nobody won, it was all just for fun, because winning was just for the fame.
Stephen’s mom called him home, to ask ‘bout the gnome, a rock hit while cutting the grass.
Only scratching some paint, Stephen fixed, what a saint, other wise it would be his butt.
Asking dad for a ride, Jarred caught from the side, a key tossed high through the air.
A mini bike, new? No, actually used, but awesome the boys would declare.
Jarred picked up his Bud, they drove through the mud, all over the town did they ride.
Up hills and back down, past the mayor of thier town, and most of the laws they’d abide.
Taking turns they drove ‘round, jumping over a mound, landing almost with perfect of ease.
The other did try, and got a gnat in his eye, landing close to a hive full of bee’s.
Past the girls they did scoot, engine noise making mute, the hollers of each of the BOB
Had they stopped they’d have heard, almost every word, from ‘boys stink’ to ‘all boys are a slob’
None-the-less they had fun, errand’s for mom’s they did run, to neighbors and off to the store.
They then took a break, eating lunch with a shake, planning next they would go to the shore.
To the pond they did go, not too fast or too slow, for some fishing and maybe a dip.
Jarred yelled “Park by the dock”, then “Look Out For That ROCK!”, too late for this last second tip.
The rock, it was big, breaks and feet they did dig, trying hard to control their stop.
Swerving left and then right, holding on with all might, but too late, in the water they’d ker-plop.
The dip turned to splash, in sort of a crash, all in a day in the life.
Jarred was gearing, while Stephen was steering, off the end of the dock, oh what strife.
Bike pulled out on the West, disappointed at best, the fun to a halt it did screech.
Maybe now it’d be clearing, One works both gears and steering, the lesson that life was to teach.
It took weeks but they worked, fixing back what they jerked, once again the bike they’d enjoy.
They learned more than they thought, ‘bout engines and the lot, lessons easily learned as a boy.
And nobody won, it was all just for fun, because winning was just for the fame.
Stephen’s mom called him home, to ask ‘bout the gnome, a rock hit while cutting the grass.
Only scratching some paint, Stephen fixed, what a saint, other wise it would be his butt.
Asking dad for a ride, Jarred caught from the side, a key tossed high through the air.
A mini bike, new? No, actually used, but awesome the boys would declare.
Jarred picked up his Bud, they drove through the mud, all over the town did they ride.
Up hills and back down, past the mayor of thier town, and most of the laws they’d abide.
Taking turns they drove ‘round, jumping over a mound, landing almost with perfect of ease.
The other did try, and got a gnat in his eye, landing close to a hive full of bee’s.
Past the girls they did scoot, engine noise making mute, the hollers of each of the BOB
Had they stopped they’d have heard, almost every word, from ‘boys stink’ to ‘all boys are a slob’
None-the-less they had fun, errand’s for mom’s they did run, to neighbors and off to the store.
They then took a break, eating lunch with a shake, planning next they would go to the shore.
To the pond they did go, not too fast or too slow, for some fishing and maybe a dip.
Jarred yelled “Park by the dock”, then “Look Out For That ROCK!”, too late for this last second tip.
The rock, it was big, breaks and feet they did dig, trying hard to control their stop.
Swerving left and then right, holding on with all might, but too late, in the water they’d ker-plop.
The dip turned to splash, in sort of a crash, all in a day in the life.
Jarred was gearing, while Stephen was steering, off the end of the dock, oh what strife.
Bike pulled out on the West, disappointed at best, the fun to a halt it did screech.
Maybe now it’d be clearing, One works both gears and steering, the lesson that life was to teach.
It took weeks but they worked, fixing back what they jerked, once again the bike they’d enjoy.
They learned more than they thought, ‘bout engines and the lot, lessons easily learned as a boy.
Henry the Dog.
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