SPUN GOLD

My dad told me
It was spun gold,
Until deep in the porcelain
I saw the lies that were told.

You stared at me
Babbling a silent speech,
I mouthed back at you
Trying to teach.
You were my friend
With huge, unblinking eyes,
Very sad looking
Though one who never cries.
Occasionally you'd develop spots
Grow a large silver belly,
You'd wedge into your house
And wouldn't watch the telly.
There were days you were big
At times you appeared small,
Then There was the time
You weren't there at all.
It was then that my Dad
Told me about spun gold,
The reasons for the spots
And other variations I was sold....

You see,
It was when one day
I went to the loo,
Dad was standing over it
With my goldfish too.
It was lay quite still
In my Dads big hand,
Why wasn't he in his bowl?
This I didn't understand.
Then suddenly he dropped
And the toilet immediately flushed,
I called out pleading "No!!"
As to the bowl I rushed.
There was "Goldie" spinning
In the gurgling whirlpool,
How often had Dad done this
I felt such a fool.
"He's now spun gold son"
"Going to join his friends in fishy heaven"
I snuffled and sniffed and cried
But I was only seven.
I knew my Dad meant well
Hiding my fishes demise from me,
But I'd have rather buried "Goldie"
Than flush him down the lavatory.

Phil Hall  March 2014