Thoughts

Thoughts are wiggly little creatures,
With a thin and pointed nose.
Who skips around to people,
Every day...in working clothes.

They are active little fellows,
Sometimes living in a doubt.
Who flutters round on silver-wings,
And dares to venture out.

They touch upon the heart-strings,
Where sentiments are entwined.
And invades the depths of chambers,
That are vacant in the mind.

They swing upon the memory,
With a queer and elfish trick.
So when a waif of thought goes by,
Just up...and grab him quick.

E.P. 1908 - 1989