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U3A Writing: A Phone Is Not A Bone

In Monica Duckeringís poem Mackie the dog has to learn a simple lesson. A phone is not a bone.

Mackie, Mackie, Mackie,
How often must I say it?
I tell you every day IT Ė
A phone is not a bone.

The grey one you chewed
Cannot be renewed.
This one, a present from the boys,
Is not one of their, or your, toys.
You really mustnít worry it to bits.
There it sits
Talking to itself.
Itís done you no harm.
Whatís itís charm?
Now leave it alone,
Mackie, itís not a bone.

Think of poor Jo
Who loves you so
But canít let you spoil
This latest acquisition.
There now, itís in position,
Leave it. Leave it.
No, donít retrieve it.

Youíre so alert, eyes so bright.
Youíre oh so soft, so brown, so white,
Lovely to look at, lovely to touch.
You know very well we enjoy you so much.

BUT, Mack, you have to comprehend
That in the end
This thing you see
Is here for me.
Iím getting cross
And in no mood to bear the loss
Of yet another. Itís no good,
I need to hear its rings.
I need the message it brings.

Look, hereís your old slipper,
Hereís you ball,
So play with those or not at all.

This is something dogs donít bite
Because, my dear, itís just not right.
It has no nourishment in-built.
It tastes quite foul from tip to hilt.
For goodness sake please leave it be.
Give me a break.
Look hereís your tea.

We donít ask much,
Just donít touch
This gift of love
Thatís up above.

Sean will be phased,
Leith will be too.
It is not here for you to chew.

Come here, Mackie,
Iíll say it slowly again.
Now the, let me explain.
This is a phone.
This is a bone.
A phone is not a bone!

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