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timothy-mooneyPoems
When I was wee my feets was small. They found no grip, I'd trip and fall. I'd stumble bumble left and right From morning sun to bed-time night. But as I grew my feets did too. They grew out of both sock and shoe! And when I slept they grew some more. They grew right out my bedroom door! They grew right out onto the lawn And when I woke my feets was gone! I sat there scared within my bed Just wondering where my feets had fled. Did my feets go out on a trip Along the Mighty Mississip? Were they stomping Kansas corn, Or hanging ten in Californ? Hiking in Saskatchewan Or Yucatan or cold Yukon? All day long and into night I worried of my Feets's plight. Worried that they'd never phone To tell me they was coming home, Worried that I'd be bereft Of both my feets, the right and left! And so I pictured my two feets Just wandering dark Parisian streets, Or alleys in the south of Spain, Or freezing in the Russian rain, Or separated in Des Moins Without the calf, the knee, the ***** But wait! Hold on! What's this I see? I'm such a goof, oh silly me! I did not lose my big old feets! They were just sleeping 'neath my sheets!
0
Jan 30, 2011
Jan 30, 2011 at 9:57 PM UTC
Feets
When I was wee my feets was small. They found no grip, I'd trip and fall. I'd stumble bumble left and right From morning sun to bed-time night. But as I grew my feets did too. They grew out of both sock and shoe! And when I slept they grew some more. They grew right out my bedroom door! They grew right out onto the lawn And when I woke my feets was gone! I sat there scared within my bed Just wondering where my feets had fled. Did my feets go out on a trip Along the Mighty Mississip? Were they stomping Kansas corn, Or hanging ten in Californ? Hiking in Saskatchewan Or Yucatan or cold Yukon? All day long and into night I worried of my Feets's plight. Worried that they'd never phone To tell me they was coming home, Worried that I'd be bereft Of both my feets, the right and left! And so I pictured my two feets Just wandering dark Parisian streets, Or alleys in the south of Spain, Or freezing in the Russian rain, Or separated in Des Moins Without the calf, the knee, the ***** But wait! Hold on! What's this I see? I'm such a goof, oh silly me! I did not lose my big old feets! They were just sleeping 'neath my sheets!
Written by
timothy-mooney
American
Jan 30, 2011
Jan 30, 2011 at 9:57 PM UTC
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