A Hole in a Sole
There once was a man
With a hole in his shoe
Who wore flannel and wool
And everything new.
He had bright red mittens
With a gaberdine sash,
And after wearing them once
They would go in the trash.
The mans name was Harry,
But he was as bald as a ball
And he was two inches shorter
Than people call “Tall”;
He was skinny on top
But fat at the hips.
Long walks were his pleasure
And he made many trips.
Some say he shuffled
And some say he strolled,
And some didn’t know
'cause his style was so bold.
Still, everyone agreed,
For those in the know,
This Dapper-Dan Harry
Had a hole in his sole.
Harry’s proudest possession
Was Hand-Crafted and rare,
They were his Grand Father’s shoes
A “One of a Kind” pair.
Such a sight to behold,
Those Wing-tips, in black,
And he polished them nightly
Before hitting the sack.
It’s a tragic story,
With a short-sighted end,
How some things are lost
As some loose a friend.
Ten pairs of shoes,
But preference took it’s tole
And the absence of Cobblers
Left that hole in his soul.
D. Thurmond
