Frank Ian Bowen
What Am I? (1) - Poem by Frank Ian Bowen
Why is it this quite small chap
can out-perform a well sprung trap?
His legs are tiny, yet hinged just right
to give him extra-ordinary height
He’s not a pretty sight to see
but there again, you’ve not met me!
He’s brown and shiny with back quite hunched,
has claws, and whiskers, has blood for lunch
He can cause the most appalling itch
And often moves by getting hitched
His driver often doesn’t know
until the little fellow goes!
He likes your carpet; “Lovely pile! ”
When heated right it makes him smile.
He’ll snuggle deep, right down to base
and never, never show his face
He’ll stay their happy; bites with glee
because he’s just a humble……..flea!
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
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I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You