Laura writes…

For Grandad, who always makes us laugh.

I can’t believe it’s now week eight of Covid in lockdown,
I try to smile and find some joy and not to glare and frown.
A poem has been starting to take shape throughout the day,
But now the words escape me, leaving me nothing to say.
My notebook is a jumble of ideas and little squiggles,
At last, it comes! I’ll tell a tale that comes in fits of giggles.

About the plight of Grandad, who one day did lose his tooth,
The scene was quite alarming, some might even say uncouth.
It happened while on holiday in splendid, sunny Nice,
A place of wealth and history, tranquility and peace.
I bet you’re quite intrigued now, have I captured your attention?
Allons-y, alors! Let’s go! I’ll stop all the suspension:

We tucked into our stew one eve, while chatting of the day,
Then Grandad whipped his hanky out, had he something to say?
He braced himself, then paused a while and we all turned to stare,
He put his hanky to his mouth and held onto his chair.
He closed his eyes, he took a breath, then came a great AAACCCHHHOOOOOMMMMM
The roar of a volcano shook the tiny dining room!

“Why Grandad! What a sneeze!” we said, and what a dreadful din,
But Grandad grinned, composed himself, continued to tuck in.
Then hand to mouth, he looked alarmed: “a bone is in my fish!”
Alas this was not possible – twas not a seafood dish…
I glimpsed the object in his hand, I had to tell the truth:
“It doesn’t seem a bone to me, it looks like it’s your tooth!”

His tooth the victim of a sneeze that topped the Richter scale,
We laughed until we cried that night, such giggles did prevail.
The holiday passed quickly, Grandad’s teeth were all but one,
But that did not deter him from enjoyment of the sun.
Or visits to the pharmacy to buy more pills and potions,
His lonely tooth wrapped in a drawer, safe after the commotion.

So therein lies the tale that will go down in history,
Of a sneeze that blew a tooth out, while its owner ate his tea.
I’m pleased to say a brand new tooth now fills the empty place,
(Unless he doesn’t put it in, which often is the case.)
The moral of this story is the one I can bequeath:
When a sneeze has passed you by, be sure to count your teeth!