Mary had a little lamb,
its fleas were white as snow.
They'd leap and dance around,
wherever Mary chose to go.
Her flea friends had a talent,
they'd perform upon command.
They juggled specks of glitter,
on a stage of Mary's hand.
The lamb looked on in wonder,
its coat a moving show,
as fleas performed in rhythm,
with leaps both high and low.
And everywhere that Mary went,
her circus came along,
with tiny acrobats in tow,
and a cheerful buzzing song.
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Author:
gray0328 (
Offline) - Published: October 17th, 2025 11:50
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 25
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments2
Normally for a poem that bounces off another I wouldn't give a fave but this made me smile and was so well written it deserves one. A fine write Gray
Thanks Soren I was in a playful mood
Glad you were you are most welcome
Baa - enjoyed very much.
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