As I sit here reading all of the comments on several artists poems,
I envision myself sitting at the top of Notre Dame in France, a Gnome.
The people I admired in my youth, as I was growing up,
found humor in the most mundain things.
Larry, Moe and Curly used shovels and rakes to make each others head ring.
Others like Laurel and Hardy used simplicity of mind to wittle away the day.
Lewis and Martin, Abbott and Costello, their humor fades away.
Then came an era from Vaudeville where the insult grew supreme.
Humor took on a brand new twist as we learned to laugh at mean.
So if you are told you have a nose like a hound, or the ears of a hare, or the eyes of a hawk in the sky,
Your as fast as a cheetah, or as slow as a turtle are you happy or do you cry?
Comments taken in the spirit of jest can turn a frown around.
But the comments I read that I like the best turn Don Rickles into a clown!