"Look Maw, I see more company comin' up the lane.
Not that I’m one to complain.
But I hate sleepin’ at the foot of the bed.
My cousin, Bessie, insists on the head.
The aunts and the uncles eat all the vittles Maw cooked.
My tummy growls as I look for a morsel that they overlooked.
Finally I find some bread and some jam,
And I stuff my mouth full as fast as I can.
Here comes Bessie and her mean brother Jim,
I don’t think I can take one more second of him.
Maw and Pa don’t want to be rude.
It’s too bad our kin are so crude.
Its Saturday night, and I wish they would leave.
Maybe they will move on and give us a reprieve.
They got a letter down at the store,
They’ve been called home, how could I ask for more.
~
Phyllis Ann (starbird55@msn.com)
~
© July
1,
2003
Writers' Corner Index
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