Lost Hat

The lost hat tells the tale of my hat and why I believe in its value. A hat seems like a small thing to think about. It takes little space. However, its value is heightened by its uses.

Lost Hat

A hat is only a hat, I know

But it keeps my head warm in winter

Holds away the hot sun in the summer

And the flies, and mosquitoes, rain and snow

My hair grows grey

And is sparsely spaced

Each silver strand by its self stands

Some perch on a barren field

And the wind is not always kind

I lost my hat one spring day

My search was extensive and prolonged

I knew it wouldn’t go far without me

If I had a dog he might chew or abscond with it

He would like the smells around it

Fortunately I have a spare which served the task

But not as well as my favorite lid

With holes cut for vents many moons ago

This floppy creature longs for retirement

And it timidly shudders even when no winds blow

Not much protection from wind and snow

Flies may come and go

If they were not embarrassed to do so

I wandered about and far and wide

And today I went to the library

Not in quest of a book to read

But my case to plead

I said to the fair librarian

I lost my hat

She looked and saw

To her dismay

That squarely upon my silly grey head

Sat an ignominious wretched thing

That surely must pass for a hat

The nice lady looked at the found hat

And the present citizen perched atop my domain

And solemnly handed, without a murmur

That which I had searched for

Upon my roof, I placed the old hat

And my world became brighter

That chilly spring day