The Quest.

The Quest.

Too much time on my hands, I suppose was to blame.
Though I swear by an oath it's the truth.
In the laze and the haze of a young afternoon,
years ago in my miss spent youth.

Education a waste, I had thought of this muse,
that I've pondered for many a year
Could a sentence be written with seven times “and.”
The answer must surely be there.

Spending most of my time at the Cat and the Queen.
An Ale House quite close to my home.
The answer it seemed steered me in clear in the face,
but remained somewhere back in the gloom.

Tell pray during the course of my very long life,
gone are three score years now and a pair.
I'd wasted paper and ink and a Tumbril of nibs,
I'd give up the quest in despair.

I decided to trip to the Pub for a beer,
our fine local, The Cat and the Queen.
Where building sore head over many fine Ale,
I'd pondered but never had seen.

There afore ageing eyes, hung the answer, my friend.
Where I'd sunk many pints of the best.
For there swung ageing sign over like ageing door
and the end of my life long quest.

For the painter had spaced out the words all cock eyed.
Mine eyes though be old were still keen.
Then I knew that mine life had not all been a waste.
He'd left too much space in between..............

“The” and the “Cat” and the “Cat” and the “and,” and the “and” and the “Queen.”
© 12 days ago, Kevin DUnn adult poems