•  

    When she licks her coat ””it rains,
    In her eyes a new moon stains.
    When she's purring in the house,
    She weaves a turban for the mouse!
     
    When she combs her fur so blown,
    The thread draws from fleece, alone.
    Spindle, on its own is spinning,
    The mouse feels his head is whizzing!

     
    1
    Next Poem Ink
  • ingtorrent.com
  • abouttorrent.com
  • storytorrent.com