No Roof For Reindeer

The celebrated sailing frog

from Montgomery County

went a courtin, or so the tale iz toad

to a grand ole mansion built around 1910,

and e'en 'pon

being razed ~2012 ah

no foo fighting crash test dummy

(sea worthiness) still plainly showed,

twas February 28th, 1968,

when my father

bought the house at 324 Level Road.

 

Majority deuce score

plus nineteen years,

(when this reasonable rhyme wrought)

rush back with unfettered exuberant zeal;

this aging elf spent psalm tranquil

May days sung sotto voce

atop memorialized, prized,

shingled out, ship-shape valued,

venerated, vip voted faux vulgar demesne
"Glen Elm" named private

100+ acre wooded common weal.

 

Many a pitch perfect spring day

found yours truly

frankly and earnestly

basking atop the spacious roof
oft times begging the cosmic force

unwaveringly, plaintively, irrationally...

to please lyft one Earthlinked bing,
courtesy (alien) extraterrestrial

bitta bing bitta bang

 

uber dreamer got proof

willingly taken with "poof"
(magic amazing dragons)

presuming my absence,

would not be missed and whereabouts

no cause for alarm,

but the usual antics

of a contemplative goof

Baal, and nada aware boot aloof.

 

A minor for heart (Sunkist) of gold

Helios radiantly and innocently beckoned,

this then sole Sol tanned
son of Brooklyn Boy(ce)

within the solar raised fold

surrendered while atop

the multi acred roof where any cold

melted away, whence became bathed

like a bronze statue of auld.

 

Never did yours truly get abducted

and whisked away to outer limits
of twilight zone, nevertheless he regaled
at temporary reprieve from parents.

Zip pose zing weather forecast

donned, trumpeted, and wafted air
fragrant with flowered flora

visibility for miles

if ether crystal clear,
this high da way countless yards
off the ground presented flare
approximating pristine terrestrial display

with powerfully poignant immunity

 

against cackling, jeering, scowling,

father, mother or other

nemesis with glare
ring (smoke emitting nostrils),

an idyll escape for this heir
to the throne of the mountain king,
(lion share of original tract
kept by Donald Neilson empire)

this make believe verdant submerged lair

 

unwittingly left a gaping hole,

when Gambone Brothers

industrial machinery voraciously

made clean sweep,
without a trace of former imp pier
real resilient stately structured heart

of "Glen Elm" could no longer rear

the well built “grand Etta face dame”
helplessly, holistically humbly

 

brought crashing, cringing,

crumbling to her knees

(gory detail aye will spare),

nonetheless more than one

pearl jammed shaped tear
trickled down mine chafed

sad reddened cheeks,
whose head must veer
away asper thine subsequently

 

blotted out never never never land

eclipsed by transient rubble,
thence ticky tacky vinyl city

(dis) graced sacred space,
no doubt a great ache,

when Saint Nick sought

former complex edifice in vain for

324 templed stone pilot

thrown helter skelter everywhere!