Once, a long time ago –
You could say ‘once upon a time’
But, that would just be plain silly –
Once upon a time,
I was touchéd by an angel; sorry, touched, by an angel.
No physical contact was made
Nor a metaphysical contact – whatever that is.
Anyway, I mustn’t dye grass – even though Blurgrass is a funky thing, it often upsets the landlord.
So, this angel, that I mentioned earlier,
Had a halo
And shining hair
That was curlier
Than any hair that I had ever seen.
Of angels she must have been the queen;
All calmly facing me, quite serene;
And I said “You must be an angel, ‘cause I’ve fallen from Heaven for you.”
And she said “That made no sense, whatsoever;
You haven’t a clue.”
And I replied, with a little simile “Yo, Angel, are you winging it – ‘cause, like, you got no style in clothes.”
I could tell she was foxed
By the frown that arose.
“Touché, there, dude! I appreciate your banter;
But, the boss wants me back soon – and he ain’t no Santa.
He works hard every day
9 to 5 ain’t His thing –
We call him Numero Uno, The Daddy, El King.”
Then she flew off
In a blaze of bright light,
And I was left there slack-jawed;
But, it had been a good night.