The Visitor

A ferret visited my house
with little tiny cymbals.
I felt that I should pick him up
but couldn't find my thimbles.

He jumped into my dresser drawer
(The one with rags and papers)
I slammed it shut and taped it tight
and gave it to the neighbors.

The neighbors liked the furniture
but did not like the ferret.
They took it to a hardware store
to trade it for a parrot.

The parrot, now, it sings to me
across the narrow alley.
I'd like to take it far away,
But it's too big to carry.

If animals come in your house
just make them go away.
You can give them to your friends
but still you'll have to pay.

© 1995 by Alan R. Turner. All Rights Reserved.
BACK to the Bad Poetry Page.
BACK to Alan Turner's home page.