The little wild rabbit
Lives in my shop.
Every day I feed her
And care for her
With tender touch
Like a father.
Every day.
She stands on delicate legs
High and streched
At my feet
And takes special treats
From my fingers.
Every day I try to touch her
And she evades my hand.
I wonder
Every day
What it would feel like
To pet that rabbit.
Jim another penned picture which leaves us wanting some more. Here's hoping the hopping results in a petting. Beautifully told. Fay.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love how the simplicity of your words conveys so much internal emotion... I too wonder how it would feel to pet that rabbit. {: -)