My Walking Stick Poem by Lesley McDade

You are very mischievious, my walking stick,
And love to play on me a trick.
I leave you hanging on the back of my chair,
And when I return I find you are not there.
“Now where’s my stick”, in desperation I cry,
And when I’ve looked everywhere,
I find you in a most unexpected place,
Fearing I have lost you, my heart starts to race.

For I cannot do without you.
Like a sword to a knight of old,
If I may be so bold,
I rely on you, walking stick,
To help me over the stony ground,
And where other pitfalls abound.
So let it be just a trick,
I would hate to lose you my naughty stick.

Phyllis Jermy Deceased - my Grandmother