A blue bottle landed on my nose,
While a poem I attempted to compose.
It wiggled it's legs and cleaned it's wings,
And did so many other things.
It stared at me through it's compound eyes,
And sat on my nose telling me lies.
He said I'm the king of all of the flies,
But I'm incognito, I'm in disguise.
He said really I'm purple, not at all blue,
The color of royalty, so how do you do?
Then he flew off to his affairs of state,
Saying his good-byes, cause he couldn't be late.
3/1/11 Alton Texas
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem