A Peacock Tale
When I was young, my grandparents
lived right across the street...
And they were just the nicest folks
you'd ever want to meet.
That morn Dad Heck was having
a plain, ordinary day...
When I came running 'cross
the street in my 4-year-old way.
My eyes as wide as quarters,
and my arms up in the sky...
He saw I was excited, but
had no clue as to why.
Quite out of breath, I waved my arms
and gasped, "A man got hit!"
Dad Heck feigned shock and leaned
down low to hear my childish bit.
"He got hit by a *peacock* and
guess what, I 'bout forgot...
They took that man away, and
put him in the *piddle-pot*!
Dad Heck said, "What?!" I stomped
my foot and yelled, "Lissen to me!
A *peacock*! To the *piddle-pot*!
Ask Mommy and you'll see!"
Then Dad Heck phoned my mother
the whole story, blow-by-blow...
She laughed and laughed, "We heard
it on this morning's radio!"
With unchecked glee, she told
what muddled my 4-year-old head:
"A man, hit by a pickup...
to the hospital," she said.
Well, many moons have passed
and now I'm more sophisticated,
Still, memories recall that day
when I was far less jaded.
And when in Heav'n I get to see
my life pass in review,
I hope to see that day replayed
when 'cross the street I flew...
"Saint Peter, roll that scene
where I'm a small, befuddled tot ~
A man, hit by a peacock,
taken to the piddle-pot!"
"When I was a child,
I spake as a child,
I understood as a child..."
(I Corinthians 13:11, KJV)
[ by: Connie Hinnen Cook (firstname.lastname@example.org) -- from Connie Hinnen Cook ]
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