My Porch
My rickety porch is falling down
But I still sit there while it’s still sound,
Watching the birds fly around,
Watching ants swarm to there mound,
Taking food under ground.
The bees’ they buzz all around,
The crickets make there “chirp, chirp” sound
Butterflies flutter off the ground.
The sound of traffic hums’ through town.
The last I heard, the hammers pound,
As my porch was torn rite down.
Over all, I am bound, to miss all of
the outdoor sound.
By Heather D. Roe
But I still sit there while it’s still sound,
Watching the birds fly around,
Watching ants swarm to there mound,
Taking food under ground.
The bees’ they buzz all around,
The crickets make there “chirp, chirp” sound
Butterflies flutter off the ground.
The sound of traffic hums’ through town.
The last I heard, the hammers pound,
As my porch was torn rite down.
Over all, I am bound, to miss all of
the outdoor sound.
By Heather D. Roe
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