The spider weaves silk for its web; <br />birds gather twigs to make their bed. <br />We just go down to the furniture store <br />and pick whatever we choose. <br />Dogs and Cats curl up on a matt <br />making sure they hog the fire <br />while it seems we sit a mile away <br />and in the cold, shiver. <br /> <br />22 October 2009<br /><br />David Harris<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bed-12/
