Tuesday, February 24, 2009
I am not a poet
Jimmy has a racing car bed.
You'd think this is where he'd like to lay down his head.
He'd rather, I gather, sleep on the floor,
Or with his keester up against the door.
Today he chose not to nap
This did not make me want to clap.
On route home from school, he seemed to change his mind
This makes me think bedtime may not be too far behind.
So until I can convince him to wake
Slumber and sleep is what he'll make.
I wish he would choose to lay down his head
During nap time on his racing car bed.