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Blue Skies of August 27 Poems. Click on image to order.
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Blue Skies of August 27 Poems. Click on image to order.

Rusty

You lick my hand when you wanna go out.
But only if it is not raining so you can run about.
Hey Rusty,
when you chase that squirrel you sure look funny,
maybe you can even catch that bunny.

When you set there with that big-eyed look so quirky.
What is it, do you want us to chase your bone or squeaky.
Hey Rusty,
do you hear the birds that dig for worms?
Leave them alone or get their bad germs.

You follow us around and snuggle up in any chair.
You think you own the house and you behave like a millionaire.
Hey Rusty,
why are you hiding, do you hear the thunder?
Find some pillows or a blanket to get under.

--Hubert Crowell

Photo by: Hubert Crowell

2010 Hubert C. Crowell