My Little Bomb

My little bomb has a song in its heart,

hiding under his bench in the park,

dreaming of musicals after dark.

My sweet bomb don’t go tick-tock,

but look at him wrong

and you’ll  hear him talk.

No reasoning with him

when he’s counting down,

ready to rock

this blessed old town.

My little mine floats in the sea,

joins hands with dolphins,

nice as can be.

He may be modest

and battleship grey,

but red rage inside

will have its day.

My little trap inside the woods,

waiting for those who are just no good.

Blow kiss to the bomb

and embarrass the mine,

but fall in my trap

and you’ll be mine.