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Christmas lights at Reynolds Implement
Noblesville, IN 12/24/2019 dwm |
I don't remember when I became aware that Dad spent time writing poetry. It was probably something he did most of his life, frequently enough I might of thought all dads wrote poetry.
The poem he wrote about my friend and I playing basketball in the backyard may have been the first time I paid attention. Then I wanted him to write one for me.
In his book he shares the story behind Bobby the Bug.
"When he was twelve, my son David requested a special Christmas poem. The first attempt was short and obviously disappointed him. The idea for BOBBY THE BUG came while driving to or from work, and the entire verse was composed in a series of such commutes. Since the drive was less than ten minutes in each direction, several days were required." William R. Mossner
I do recall another time he wrote a poem that incorporated the name of every student in my class at St. Paul's. As far as I know, that work is lost to history. Dad self-published Bobby the Bug. I think there's a market for it, we just haven't found it yet.
Bobby the Bug
You know reindeer that fly;
You call them by name.
You know elves quick and spry;
They surely have fame.
You know Santa and wife,
And Frosty's well-known,
But in all Christmas life,
Just one stands alone.
Hark to this word!
Don't stand there and shrug,
I bet you've not heard
Of Bobby the Bug.
Bobby the Bug
Was tiny and small.
He slept in a rug
In a reindeer stall.
He seemed of no use
To the others around
As he crawled ever loose
Over snow-covered ground.
But I tell you right here,
And would you believe,
That in one certain year
He saved Christmas Eve?
The presents were made
And locked in the shed.
The elves had been paid
And had gone home to bed.
Santa prepared
For the long Christmas flight.
Not a moment was spared.
He worked through the night.
He was ready to fill
His bag full of toys,
But he soon made a shrill
Heart-rendering noise.
He had hitched up his sled
While chuckling with glee.
He had walked to the shed,
But WHERE WAS THE KEY?
He woke up the elves
And searched the North Pole.
They looked on the shelves
And in each little hole.
They looked under trees
And dug through the frost,
But try as they please,
The key was still lost.
In the barn they moved straw
And shook out the rug,
But all that they saw
Was Bobby the Bug.
They told Bobby the tale
Of the key that was gone.
Their search seemed to fail,
But they looked on and on.
Bobby listened and said
As his eyes he did blink,
"Show me the shed.
"I can help you, I think."
They said to the Bug,
"Just what can you do?
"We've searched and we've dug,
And we've only found you."
Santa was eager to go
So they took Bobby away
Through the ice and the snow
To the shed near the sleigh.
Bobby showed his delight
As he hollered out "Good!"
"I can help you tonight
"For the door's made of wood!"
He crawled up the door
Quite close to the lock.
He crawled a bit more
And glanced at the clock.
It was already late
And he had to work fast
On this Christmas date
Before it was past.
He nibbled a bite.
He started to eat.
He worked in the night
With his teeth and his feet.
He chewed and he chewed.
His teeth nearly flew.
This door was his food,
And he nibbled right through.
The lock fell away,
And the door opened wide.
Santa loaded his sleigh
With the Bug at his side.
He took Bobby along
Inside of his cap.
They both sang a song,
And the Bug took a nap.
It's perfectly clear
Though hard to suspect
That we owe Christmas cheer
To a tiny insect.
So have a good time
And fill up your mug.
Drink to this rhyme
And to Bobby the Bug.
Copyright 1990, W.R. Mossner
Merry Christmas!
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