The sight of a huge morning glory they say
can brighten up even the darkest of days
as well as the petals shaped just like a heart
the trumpet shaped flower’s another main part

Some form a vine that can twine for support
while others stand proud, like a king they hold court
but while on the subject I really must mention
the lone soldier boy as he stands to attention

Like a ramrod he stands with his head held up high
with his big shiny helmet and one staring eye
his weapon is stiff and his voice it is mute
the impression he gives is one of salute

So the private parades that he’s ready for action
and those who are watching him see his attraction
it’s all they can do to contain their reaction
they know that when needed he gives satisfaction

So they long to take part in a pleasant transaction
but he can’t relax, not even a fraction
to do so might be an unwanted distraction
that gets in the way of a strong interaction

Now standing alone means he could be ignored
not pampered and feted, loved and adored
to stand there frustrated by sight and by sound
as those who would touch him move on all around

To rise and to shine as they get out of bed
how many will stop and see his fine head
his big shining helmet, his one little eye
as they open the curtains to look at the sky

He arose in the dark like the lark in the morn
but surveying the sky as he stands there forlorn
he longs to be taken in hand to keep warm
somewhere away from the cold of the storm

So with quiet dignity he sheds a tear
a salty wet raindrop shining and clear
it rolls from his eye and slowly descends
from his head to his body and on to the end
of his rigid erection, that stands like a bone
to do what he’s here for, why he was grown
to bring others joy for the new day ahead
not slowly to shrink till he’s flaccid and dead

So the soldier erect in his loneliness stands
he wishes for nothing but warm loving hands
and kisses to let him know he’s really home
planted with love on the top of his dome