Old GuysWithered and wrinkled small and shrewd,He sat there numbly,Oh, How rude,That strange old man with squinted eyes,And heartless stare that seemed so blind,Could not he see of things I can?The world full of vibrant life,The loves of hearts within their plights,The happy smiles and laughter,Delight,Whatever could corrupt his mind?To make him gaze oh so blind,The man was withered , shrewd , lean,I did not like him,and his stare,Though I spoke oh so very fair,'Would you like me to move that chair?Perhaps the window,or out in the air?'He glowered and muttered then nodded his head,That strange old man his bruta
BunniesJimment Wicket was an odd creature,Tinkering lingering singering too!He worked on a shoe and lived on the moon,This little creature had happy long ears,a cottony tail,and bouncy smiling eyes,The world he loved,His life stayed in glee,The happy little rabbit had children three,Wicket Wicket,Mary Wicket,Divic Wicket hee!Such delightful bunnies who could not love thee?The five happy rabbits,For missus he must have,Quite happily forever lived there on the moon!