
I like worms that are slippery and slimey
I like to hold 'em till my hands are all grimey
I like beetles and spiders and ants
And toads that will try to pee on my pants
I like to catch em and put em in jars
It's kinda like jail without any bars
I know it's not nice but I don't keep 'em long
And I give 'em some play things and sing 'em a song
I like 'em shiny or stingy or covered with fuzz
I like bugs cause no one else does.
I like to hold 'em till my hands are all grimey
I like beetles and spiders and ants
And toads that will try to pee on my pants
I like to catch em and put em in jars
It's kinda like jail without any bars
I know it's not nice but I don't keep 'em long
And I give 'em some play things and sing 'em a song
I like 'em shiny or stingy or covered with fuzz
I like bugs cause no one else does.
Writing a poem to accompany a gift was something my father did and I carried on the tradition occasionally. His were usually limericks, a clever little something pertaining to the gift or the person. My sister in law Pat has taken up this baton and written several for family events. I wonder if others do this or whether it was done more in the past before the days of Hallmark and the ready made verse.
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