I put a sardine in a mud puddle,
My Grandma must not be told.
I would have fed it to my dog,
But it was too salty and so cold.
I would have ate it with my eyes closed
If it wasn’t so slimy and gray.
Grandma doesn’t know it’s been floating
In a mud puddle half the day.
The sardine may come to life and swim,
Or some boys will use it for bait --
If Grandma ever finds it,
Her white hairs will stand straight.
The secret of the sardine is safe so far --
Where I left it I’ll never admit.
It can stay forever in its muddy home,
With a butterfly attending to it.
Oct 2, 2015
Oct 2, 2015 at 1:50 AM UTC
I put a sardine in a mud puddle,
My Grandma must not be told.
I would have fed it to my dog,
But it was too salty and so cold.
I would have ate it with my eyes closed
If it wasn’t so slimy and gray.
Grandma doesn’t know it’s been floating
In a mud puddle half the day.
The sardine may come to life and swim,
Or some boys will use it for bait --
If Grandma ever finds it,
Her white hairs will stand straight.
The secret of the sardine is safe so far --
Where I left it I’ll never admit.
It can stay forever in its muddy home,
With a butterfly attending to it.
Tryingsomethingdifferent
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