Bed Poem by David Harris
Bed
The spider weaves silk for its web;
birds gather twigs to make their bed.
We just go down to the furniture store
and pick whatever we choose.
Dogs and Cats curl up on a matt
making sure they hog the fire
while it seems we sit a mile away
and in the cold, shiver.
22 October 2009
Ha, this is so true! You have the great gift of observation, while I get so caught up in my own mind's strings that I forget to notice important things. Animals are comfort-seeking missiles, for sure..(smile)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 4:10:14 PM # 1.0.0.1119
lolol oh yes those pleasure seeking creatures good one 10