Oh Lego how I love thee
Thou dost keep my children quiet for hours at a time.
I do not mind thy presence underfoot,
Unless I step on thee directly,
Then do I curse both profound and profane,
And threaten to vacuum up thy scattered remains.
This though is nothing to
the sheer bliss of quiet,
As the short people silently create
from thy many colored splendor.
Wonderful things emerge from the bedroom
Airships, dragons, boats, and penguins.
All presented with shining eyes,
Demanding examination and approval.
I rejoice in the skills
unfolding before me.
Motor control, engineering,
The joy of handmade toys.
They both want the same Lego Guy.
The black clad one will not do,
For it is the green shirt who hath gained the greater glory
They scream and shriek
A sound most shrill,
And beat each the other upon furrowed brows.
Then does my peace become fleeting,
And my voice rises in annoyance.
But since, oh Lego,
You last much longer than any other toy
Before the shrillness ensues.
I will not yet consign thy wonderful variety
To the dark reaches of yon chasm
Whose open maw and reeking receptacle
Has been the death of many other toys.