One: it's a sword and I champion my way
with vicious swipes through reeling villains

Two: I rest the tip on my outstretched hand
take careful aim and crack! pot
black in the far pocket with a crafty shot.

Three: it springs open for my war report
I speak, urgent, as distant bombs explode,
holding high above my head my satellite dish.

Four:  the curved handle reaches over my shoulder
and gives my itchy back a scratch.

Five: I play the fool and toot
with scampering fingers upon my flute.

Six: kneeling, I attack the river
paddling with powerful strokes through
the white water in my canoe

Seven: A cane swinging in my hand
my feet turned out, knees slightly bent
I mimic Charlie Chaplin, trip-
ping over an unseen stone.

Eight:  High above the circus ring,
I walk the wire with nerves
stretched taut as the rope

Nine:  feet planted well apart, I eye the ball,
gaze down the fairway, wiggle my bottom
and swing my club hoping for a hole in one.

Ten:  if you think I've got a big mouth
wait till you see my toothbrush!  
It's this looooooooooooooong!

Eleven:  A big mouth means a huger hunger!
choice chunks of skewered chicken sizzle.
I tear them greedily from my satay stick

Twelve:  cautiously I inhale, clamp the snorkel
to my lips and slip my head
into the clear classroom waters
eyeing a school of gaping studentfish.

Thirteen: alone at the dance, I eye a tall
thin girl, her pretty figure wrapped
in a dress belted tightly around her.
She has seen me, for her head dips shyly.
I take her in my arms and we sway
romantically to our own soft song.