A compliment to him that it
Inspires imitation.
The Brooksby rhyming gene, it’s clear,
Afflicts each generation.

So, your owners have bought you a new coat.
You’re looking all shiny and fine
But now you are feeling nostalgic
In fact, you are starting to whine

You’re “The Yellow House on the Corner”
And your owners are wrinkled and gray.
But that’s really to be quite expected
When they’re out in your yard every day.

You moan about when “times were different”
When “laughter and song filled each room.”
I’m glad you can think back on last week
And the week before that, you baboon

“I was always the place for their parties;”
And you still are, from what I can tell
Teen-agers, kids and great-grandkids
And neighbors and strangers as well

“Now, those children have grown up and left me.”
Puh-leese! Let us wipe off a tear
They all live within 30 minutes
Except one prodigal (who visits twenty-six times each year).

Yes, “they oft bring their kids” and your grandkids
But it’s not for fond thoughts, you old fool
Sure, there are mem’ries of childhoods gone by
But today there’s a basement and pool.

So thanks for the sentimental journey
A trip down your yellow-brick way
Enjoy reflecting on your “last coat,”
But be ready for us all next Saturday.