The Model Boat.

There it was, this block of wood.

The young lad wondered if he could

Carve a boat, his pride and joy,

Even though he was but a boy.

He carved with love and heart and skill,

The wood was shaping at his will,

Until at last the boat was done,

His battle with the block was won.

The paint went on with loving care,

His favourite colours it would wear,

The sails were set for all to see,

And so he took it to the sea.

The boat went gently from the shore,

When suddenly the boy saw it no more,

He’d forgotten the power of the main,

So would not see his boat again.

One day walking down the street,

A site before him he did greet,

There in a window was his boat,

Sat on water still afloat.

The boat was sitting there for sale,

But his pleas to have it had no avail,

He had to buy it, pay its due,

He had about him coppers few.

He went home to see his Dad,

Who said you must give all you have,

He emptied boxes of all his stash,

And gave the shop man all his cash.

The boat went home safe and sound,

His father said the boats been found,

It’s yours again and home at last,

Keep it safe and keep it fast.

The boy said yes it’s safely back,

And I’ll just keep it on a rack,

I carved it once and bought it twice,

I seemed to have paid twice the price.