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


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