as i sat in a rocking chair,



taking in the summer air,



my hound ran out to chase a squirrel,


lifting leaves up in a whirl,


and in that whirl were thirty flies,


that scared a woman in disguise,

who’d wandered in the forest wild,

with five ceramic plates betiled,

which simply cost but thirty cents,

but lots of kids can’t pay their rents,
and landlords needed money too,
but they were all out with the flu,
and the terrible flu hit all the town,
and closed the banks and shops all down,
so all the workers went and found,
a little district underground,
and there they prospered till one day,
bulldozers wiped the land away,
and there they were all huddled together, faced again with harsh harsh weather, the weather blew and crops in vain were trampled in the pouring rain so all the people ran to stores but don’t you know they’ve closed their doors so hunger overtook the state and people thought it was just fate and soon the famine swept the nation bringing tears and accusations and all the country never was full and easily was pushed and pulled,

but one person was good and strong

and in her eyes this all was wrong,

and really all would soon be well,

and this would be a tale to tell

through optimism we’d get by,


and we would really live,


said I,



as I sat in a rocking chair



taking in the summer air.