Bought for a shilling

We bought Dad a biro for 12 pence

He told us children we were very dense

When something is new it may have many flaws

In any case a pen is not a toy

I was quite surprised by his desire

I thought toys were for children, I’m a liar

I had seen seeing him playing with my toys

Doing jigsaw puzzles, I’m annoyed.

Can I love a man who loves my dolls.

In the winds of age I hear him call

I am older now than he was then

A biro could be useful to man

He played like a child for half an hour

I should not judge others when I’m sour.

Daddy died of cancer I was nine

So the long sad days of mourning were no crime