Sunday feel good, breathe easy day
So breaks life’s pace;
Brunch, munch, tea, and fun,
Suddenly my reverie a squirrel broke
Cozy it lay snug as a bug
under a tiny rug,
Squirreled away, the munchkin did not stay!
Posted by Valsa on September 24, 2011 in Poems, Writing
Tags: Home, munch kin. maybe iambic, Poetry, rug, snuga as a bug, Squirrels, Sunday
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