My little elephant chatters non-stop,
By my side,
Closer, closer,
Songs sung,
Questions asked,
Stories told,
Over, over.
"Hey, you listening?"
Talking louder,
My ears,
My eyes,
My face made of plastic.
Shhh, little one,
My head.
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5 comments:
Glad you realized that the whale can't float on its back all the time, has to turn over every so often and breathe!
That made me laugh:) I replaced the chattering elephant with my Dad. He drives me potty;)
I must write a poem right now on my blog;)
Jason
Actually Ample, I had better put it here in case he reads it;)
He talks, I listen,
I reply (try), he talks,
I listen, he talks,
I talk anyway, he talks,
I listen (try), I do,
He talks....ya know jae?
Yes Dad, He talks, No Dad, He talks.....
.....I look at his forehead and picture a tiny little, scorched black hole, dribbling with blood......& still I listen.........!
I try not to go round to see him too often;)
I do Love him......just once a month though;)
yikes! dribbling blood! You crack me up. I can just picture your eyes wondering slowly up to his forehead as he talks, talks, talks, talks, talks...
Good one! -Ample
Such a creativity to express your suffering in poems, I can feel it, I'm almost next to you.
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