Paper Money…

Money

My uncle used to slide, unto my little hand,

A crisp note made of paper, with £5 round its band,

My Mother used to tell me, it wouldn’t buy a toy,

And she would swap me coins, I think it was a ploy,

She pocketed the note a smile upon her lips,

And then she sauntered off, to buy us fish and chips,

It’s only now I’m older, I’ve realised the trick,

I’ve tried on my kids, but they are far too quick,

I wish I’d kept the note, tucked gently in my fist,

I’m sorry Uncle Bert, you’re really truly missed.

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