In a sleepy village far from Iran
Lived a wise old man, weathered and tan.
He spoke with ease, with grace and flair;
But one day, his voice vanished into thin air.
A phantom feline, stealthy and sly,
Played a weird prank on this wonderful guy,
Inflating his tongue when he was asleep,
Leaving him silent, not a word to peep.
The man tried to talk, but no sound would come,
A strange phenomenon, quite cumbersome,
His friends and family soon gathered ’round,
To find out what had caused the dearth of sound.
Hour turned into day, and day into week,
Still, the poor man could barely eke a squeak,
But deep inside, he kept his faith strong,
That his voice would return before long.
One day, while abed waiting for a godsend,
A miracle happened, his throat was opened,
His voice returned, a bit weak but clear,
And from then on, he had nothing to fear.
The minx slinked away, feeling so ashamed,
For causing this man such high worry and pain,
But the man forgave the rascal, for he knew,
That life is full of twists, both strange and new.
© 2024, Kenneth Koziol. All rights reserved.
