My Very First Poem – How to Find a Wife
Let’s go back, back into the misty reaches of my parents’ basement, to rediscover the very first poem to spring from the mind of a five-year-old. An epic adventure about the search for love.
Do I detect hints of greatness, even then? Or was it just sexism? Whichever it was, you can blame the classics.
How to Find a Wife
by Sarah Silvey
There was once a man who had no life,
He didn’t have as much as a wife!
So he sailed, night and day,
And would always hear his mother say,
“If you shant have a wife,
A soul shall kill you with a knife.”
His mother told him such strange things,
Like giant toads with devils wings.
She liked to give him such a fright,
And somehow convinced him his father was a knight.
He tried to show her he outgrew that now,
She still even called him her little cow,
But his real name was David, David Bough.
David found women miles around,
But none sank his heart down to the ground.
So he sailed on, and how many he found? None.
David heard from a crazy man,
That on the beaches there was sand
And on the sand there were pretty girls,
With goldielocks and golden curls.
So he went there and found it true
With pretty eyes, the darkest blue.
Then he found one,
And love was true,
With pretty eyes, the darkest blue.
Her name was Rose
Which fit her so
And her hair was made of gold
You know.
But all her beauty ruined her fate,
For all women she knew were full of hate.
She married David
Which improved both lives,
for other women knew men couldn’t get Rose
And David, of course, had a wife.
The End
Fresh Hell 
You were only five? I knew you were a precocious little thing! Love it! Mona
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The sexism’s not atrocious;
You truly were precocious.
When I was five I recall my hope
Was to just get better skipping rope!
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Welcome back—I was just thinking about you and missing you.!
Things ok?
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Yes! I creatively blanked out for a few months. Blame social isolation. All I could think about was my tomato garden. I didn’t even DREAM. I guess it’s taken me this long to recalibrate, but I feel my brain starting to stir again. Cross your fingers it sticks! I got so boring, I didn’t even mind being boring.
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Listen, if Michelle Obama’s talking about low-level depression, ya gotta think zillions are affected in various ways.
I’m being fairly productive, but the other day I wept at a car commercial consisting of a 1940 Charlie Chaplin quote.
Glad you’re back. If you feel like visiting, I had some wordplay fun with a piece I titled “A Mid-Pandemic, Anti-Panic, Slightly Manic Flight of …Oh, I Dunno.”
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Haha, well, Chaplin is widely regarded as a genius, so you could be brought to tears by worse!
I’ll check out your piece! The title alone is very clever, haha
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