Peggy Fell Off the Roof!
I walked in on a conversation of my mother at the table with her friend.
All I heard was Peggy “fell off the roof” and will not attend.
“Oh, my gosh, not Peggy Wallen,” I thought with terrible fright.
For Peggy was my mom’s age and as round as her height.
She’s a little rolly polly and loved by one and all.
Her laughs were contagious, “Oh Lord, how did she fall?”
What in the world was Peggy doing on that blasted roof,
Mom didn’t seem at all concerned as she sat there so aloof.
I must do something nice for Peggy to help her heal and get well.
I knew everybody would give support because it was Peggy who fell.
So I let every neighbor know and collected money for a gift.
This would make Peggy feel better and give her such a lift.
I wrote a poem for Peggy, and bought some candy too.
I picked her some flowers I pulled out quite a few.
I dreaded seeing Peggy hurting all bandaged and in pain.
But off I went with awful thoughts going through my brain.
Knocking softly on the door not knowing what I’d see.
When that door would finally open, was really scaring me.
I was totally blown over when it was Peggy at the door.
Not one bandage did I see, no bumps, or a single sore.
To say that I was shocked was the understatement of all time.
There was Peggy standing there looking just fine.
Oh how happy I was that day, not seeing blood, not one tiny ounce.
I guessed when Peggy fell off the roof, Peggy must have bounced.
Written by,
Bonnie May
This was the poem I sent to Peggy...
I am sorry you fell off the roof,
I once had a real bad tooth,
I got better and I feel ok.
You will too, have a good day.
Love, Bonnie
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Cryssa
With three boys and one girl, Mother and Sis most had a hell of a time trying to sweep under the carpet our questions barrage which were answered more often than not "ask your father" which, hadn't a clue how to talk to boys about girls or their mother.
We catch up just fine, and were a bunch of little devils every twenty-eight days or so starting to be mean with soooooo "innocent" questions.
Your words remind me to be good and apologize to my Sis.
But the laughs...them are for you my dear.
Georg
I notice you were writing poems already as a child. I'd love to read the one you wrote for "poor Peggy." And weren't you a sweet girl, canvassing the neighbors for a gift. Myomyomy!
But I love ya, Sis,
Connie lololol
Take care Bonnie I had a nice laugh,
~Gwendolyn
Be always safe,
Karen
Love, Micke
Cheers,
Dan
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.