Monday's Poem: Lady Left Behind

Lady Left Behind

I have a doll with one arm.

She's lovely, soft, and kind.

I found her in an alley.

She's Lady Left Behind.

Somebody didn't want her;

I feel that way sometimes.

I hug her tight and she hugs me,

My Lady Left Behind.

Most other dolls are perfect.

My doll and I don't mind.

I love her so and she loves me,

Dear Lady Left Behind.

                             Anne Knowles

Monday's Poem: Thistle in My Whistle

Thistle in My Whistle

Thistle bristles in my whistle;

Sister slipped the thistle in.

Now my whistle doesn't tweet;

My whistle threet, threet, threets.

Sister used to be so thweet;

I'm glad she's almost three.

Since sister slipped the thistle in,

My whistle threet, threet, threets.

                                         Anne Knowles