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All I eat is dirt, dirt, dirt.
What I really want is a dessert.
I wiggle and crawl, crawl, crawl
over grass, flowers, and a wall.
To an orchard of apple trees, trees, trees.
Every crimson orb beckons me.
Climbing tree trunks is a chore, chore, chore
but not the tasty journey to each core.
Love those repeats, especially "chore, chore, chore", Bridget. You must have a bushel of apples hanging around!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Linda! I do love apples, but not the ones that have been visited by a worm, though. = )
DeleteLove your rhymes--worm and sojourn, dirt and dessert, chore and core. Nice!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Liz! I love to rhyme though I'm not always successful. Thanks for the encouragement on this attempt. = )
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