An Inconvenience Poem by John Bannister Tabb
An Inconvenience
To his cousin the Bat
Squeaked the envious Rat,
'How fine to be able to fly!'
Tittered she, 'Leather wings
Are convenient things;
But nothing to sit on have I.'
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Topic(s) of this poem: wings
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8/15/2026 3:52:35 AM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
