Poem for her 685

Dear Readers,


The march Hare with a tea cup

The butter was in the bowl
The box was open
Out flew millions of sweet nothings
They had just flew in they do the butter fly in
They had been in your sock drawer and
Had that silly smile on their wings
The art project lay on the floor
They were picking up leaves and
Tossing them into the air
We Love you they sang
We Love you they smiled
The next stop was the tea bag
One group of them almost got a tea bag up
But they all swarmed you
As you giggled
I got the tea bag the rest of the way
Hot warm and ice cold Mint smell
Filled the room
The sighs I made at your touch
My belly in that video
Now repeated
A million tiny songs
You are Awesome they sang
I smiled and licked your fingers
The graham dust and butter
Singing to a song We just heard


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.