No warning was given
The day of the fall
I didn't see it coming
The invader so small

A miniature hurricane
Exploring my world
My antiques being fondled
Danced with and twirled

My shoes full of roast beef
Only partially chewed
My bird looks ill as he mumbles,
"But, that's not my food!"

With no warning given
Sullied fingers -- ewwwww!
And with such audacity
It asks, "What's wrong with you?"

It must have bit me
It's still not clear
I only know -- I love it more
Each passing year

Property of Joy Elaine -- October 03, 2001



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