The Three Bares Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis


Ma tried to wash her garden slacks but couldn't get 'em cleanA
And so she thought she'd soak 'em in a bucket o' benzineA
It worked all right She wrung 'em out then wondered what she'd doB
With all that bucket load of high explosive residueB
She knew that it was dangerous to scatter it aroundC
For Grandpa liked to throw his lighted matches on the groundC
Somehow she didn't dare to pour it down the kitchen sinkD
And what the heck to do with it poor Ma jest couldn't thinkD
Then Nature seemed to give the clue as down the garden lotE
She spied the edifice that graced a solitary spotE
Their Palace of Necessity the family joy and prideF
Enshrined in morning glory vine with graded seats insideF
Jest like that cabin Goldylocks found occupied by threeG
But in this case B E A R was spelt B A R EG
A tiny seat for Baby Bare a medium for MaH
A full sized section sacred to the Bare of GrandpapaI
Well Ma was mighty glad to get that worry off her mindJ
And hefting up the bucket so combustibly inclinedJ
She hurried down the garden to that refuge so discreetK
And dumped the liquid menace safely through the centre seatK
Next morning old Grandpa arose he made a hearty mealL
And sniffed the air and said 'By Gosh how full of beans I feelL
Darned if I ain't as fresh as paint my joy will be completeK
With jest a quiet session on the usual morning seatK
To smoke me pipe an' meditate an' maybe write a pomeH
For that's the time when bits o' rhyme gits jiggin' in me dome '-
He sat down on that special seat slicked shiny by his ageM
And looking like Walt Whitman jest a silver whiskered sageM
He filled his corn cob to the brim and tapped it snugly downN
And chuckled 'Of a perfect day I reckon this the crown '-
He lit the weed it soothed his need it was so soft and sweetK
And then he dropped the lighted match clean through the middle seatK
His little grand child Rosyleen cried from the kichen doorO
'Oh Ma come quick there's sompin wrong I heared a dreffel roarO
Oh Ma I see a sheet of flame it's rising high and higherP
Oh Mummy dear I sadly fear our comfort cot's caught fire '-
Poor Ma was thrilled with horror at them words o' RosyleenN
She thought of Grandpa's matches and that bucket of benzineN
So down the garden geared on high she ran with all her powerP
For regular was Grandpa and she knew it was his hourP
Then graspin' gaspin' Rosyleen she peered into the fireP
A roarin' soarin' furnace now perchance old Grandpa's pyreP
But as them twain expressed their pain they heard a hearty cheerQ
Behold the old rapscallion squattinn' in the duck pond nearQ
His silver whiskers singed away a gosh almighty wreckR
Wi' half a yard o' toilet seat entwined about his neckR
He cried 'Say folks oh did ye hear the big blow out I madeS
It scared me stiff I hope you uns was not too much afraidS
But now I best be crawlin' out o' this dog gasted wetT
For what I aim to figger out is WHAT THE HECK I ET '-

Robert Service


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