Mr. Albert's Face Poem by Richard D Remler

.........


Mr. Albert Albertson of
North-West-South-East Place,
Woke up early yesterday
And did not have a face.

He knew he had one earlier,
Before he went to bed.
He had a nose, a chin, an ear,
Attached right to his head.

But, alas, his face was missing.
It was no where to be found.
For he searched and searched his living room
And it wasn't anywhere around.

He hunted near the window fan,
And deep inside a Pringles can.
He did not find it in his Altoids tin,
Or even near the Aspirin.

He looked inside his bowler hat.
He peered around the baseball bat.
It wasn't near his L-Bow mit,
Nor by his nifty ant-farm kit.


.....


Mr. Albert Albertson
Began to fret and moan,
Pacing nervously throughout
The many hallways of his home,

Asking his third inner-self
Just where he'd hid the gem.
A face just doesn't run away,
Especially from him.

He looked through all the silverware,
And in his coffee cup.
He searched as low as he could search,
And then he searched all up,

Through the cobwebs on the ceiling,
To the dust bunnies on the floor.
He hunted low and high and low,
And then he searched some more.

It was not in the microwave,
Or in the coffee can.
It wasn't in the dish washer,
Nor in the frying pan.


.....


Mr. Albert Albertson
Breathed in the morning air.
He had searched and searched the window box
But his face just wasn't there.

He called up 'Information, '
But they did not have a clue
As to where he had put his face,
Or just what he should do.

It wasn't near the cannikin,
Nor 'round the splintered dowel pin.
He could not find it in the flour bin,
Or near his dusty violin.

It wasn't up, nor was it down,
It wasn't here, it wasn't there.
It seemed no matter where he looked,
He could not find it anywhere.

It wasn't in his bowling shoes,
Nor was it with his pool cues.
He did not find it in the toilet bowl,
Or even by his fishing pole.


.....


He searched inside each pillow case,
Then peeked just under Grandma's shawl,
No hint, nor hair seemed out of place,
But still it wasn't found at all.

He looked through every basket drawer,
And deep inside the Fire Place.
It was not in the Cookie Jar,
Nor was it near his Gator Case.

He looked behind each picture frame,
And about the television set.
It wasn't in the old Monopoly game.
Nor in the kitchen cabinet.

He wondered if, perhaps, his face
Was hiding in his eyeglass case.
He peeped about the bitter dock,
And around the old Grandfather Clock.

It was not where he thought it'd be.
There was no doubt about it.
So, he dusted off his winter coat
And went to work without it.



Copyright © MMXII Richard D. Remler