Food for Thought-No One Wants To Play with My Wee Black Dog

hurley

Where the chickens fly,
The ducks run away,
No one wants to play,
With my black dog,
On the second Tuesday,
I think she’s quite sad,
Melancholy about her face,
Beyond her Amish ears,
Hanging firmly in place,
I hope she won’t cry,
Perhaps another dog,
Will walk on by.

–Richard Bryant

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