Stopping by Threads on a NerdyTrail Evening
Whose thread this is I think I know,
His head is in my noodle though,
He will not see me typing here,
To watch his thread;switching to with fro.
My little pud must think it queer,
To stop without a farm girl near,
Here--- in this forest made of what I take,
As I last out yet another year.
He gives his harness bells a shake,
I knew that outfit was a mistake.
The only other sounds are of his painful weeps,
Those heavy bells ..his will; will surely break.
The woods are lovely, in the night...when it's dark...and deep,
But I have coyotes to meep-meep,
And trials to try...so I may make my keep,
And trials to try...so I may make my keep
-- MortimerDexterFoxworthy
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