I build this story by rhyme,

And house at the same time,

It is nice to be young like you,

Though I’m old I feel young too,

I am young, I am as young as I am,

I’ll never be old enough to eat spam,

Of pig my favorite bite is of cold ham,

But I’ll remain a kid and eat plumb jam,

As gravity grabs my bags and pulls down,

I won’t let it drop my lips edge to be a frown,

Now for my grandkids I may dress as a clown,

And since I am the King of Chill I’ll wear a crown,

Note how perfectly constructed each line in rhyme,

Is made to extend just a bit more each and every time,

Let’s see just for fun since I feel so young in my prime,

I’ll find words to describe youth in a downward climb,

I rise in the morning and listen to each joint crack,

Perhaps rise is improper if referring to my back,

My grandkids will say “PaPa you sure are slow, slow,

I may be but the three of you give “PaPa” go,

Help me please to build this word house,

A building poem for us and my spouse,

We should add slow to build a stack,

How does adding slow help a back,

That was smart of you to ask,

It was a play on words task,

Sideways a house for one,

This line and it is done.