Sisters, by Rilla
They scoop me up and say I’m delicious;
They grant practically all of my wishes
(Except when I wish to gnaw on a Lego).
Mostly I wish to go where they go.
Jane is the one who totes me like mother
And won’t let me pull out the hair of my brother.
Rose guards me from anything ‘ticingly teeny.
The one who twirls me around is Beanie.
This week’s Poetry Friday roundup can be found at Chicken Spaghetti.
I Am From: Because Loni Asked So Sweetly
A Poetry Friday Post Lacking an Actual Poem
“It butters no parsnips.”