April 12th

The Perfect And Dull Pencil

Whose pencil is that? I think I know. Its owner is quite happy though. Full of joy like a vivid rainbow, I watch her laugh. I cry hello.

She gives her pencil a shake, And laughs until her belly aches. The only other sound's the break, Of distant waves and birds awake.

The pencil is perfect, dull and deep, But she has promises to keep, After cake and lots of sleep. Sweet dreams come to her cheap.

She rises from her gentle bed, With thoughts of kittens in her head, She eats her jam with lots of bread. Ready for the day ahead.