Jedi
February 19, 2003
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Homework
She lounges,
She cleans.
She is ever too lazy,
To be mean.
The sun,
Is her blanket.
Mice and small treats,
Her banquet.
She sleeps,
Upon my head.
For there is no other comfy place,
Anywhere on my bed.
Her eyes,
Are like gold-green fire.
Her feet are dainty,
Like those who walk the high wire.
Her tail,
Is fluffy like a fox's.
Sometimes you can see it,
Sticking out of boxes.
She looks,
Like a roast duck.
When she lies,
With her feet tucked.
Her ears,
Are so perky.
And her coloring,
Is ever so quirky.
She is,
My youngest baby.
And there is nary a time,
When I can tell her no or maybe.
NOTE: This was an assignment for my CCV Creative Writing Poetry onsite class with Michelle Demers.
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