All Poems
Field bindweed, little white starsClimbing up the curtain barsOpen and close, open roundThe Mouse can hear the sound! Breathes a field bindweed flower Clasps his nose and embowers,He pulls out the flower with a popThe petals dilate and flop. - I have been old but all the sameI would like to play the game...From now on, what one really needsIs to have a wife and kids…