No Roof For Reindeer

No Roof For Reindeer elegy

Uploaded by Matthew Harris


Page 1.

the celebrated sailing frog
from Montgomery County
went a court’n, or so the tale iz toad
to a grand ole mansion built around 1910,
and e’en ‘pon

being razed ~2012 ah no 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,
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 basking atop the spacious roof
oft times begging the cosmic force

irrationally lyft ting this Earthlinked bing,
this uber dreamer
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

ball, and aware
a minor for hair (Sunkist) gold
Helios innocently beckoned,
this then sole Sol tanned
within the solar raised fold

surrendering while atop
the multi acred roof where any cold
melted away, whence became bathed
like a bronze statue of auld.

zip pose zing the weather forecast
donned 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 floral display
with powerfully poignant immunity
against cackling, jeering, scowling,

parents 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 to her knees
(gory detail aye will spare),
nonetheless more than
one pearl jammed shaped tear

trickled down chafed
sad reddened cheeks,
whose head must veer
away asper thine subsequently
blotted out never never never land

eclipsed by transient rubble,
thence vinyl city (dis) graced sacred space,
no doubt a great ache,
when Saint Nick sought
sought in vain for
324 Templed throne every where!

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