Closed Kids poem: The fly

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Yours

Baby Bye,
Here's a fly;
Let us watch him, you and I.
How he crawls
Up the walls;
Yet he never falls !


I believe with six such legs
You and I could walk on eggs.
There he goes
On his toes
Tickling baby's nose.


Spots of red
Dot his head;
Rainbows on his back are spread.
That small speck
Is his neck;
See him nod and beck.


I can show you, if you choose
Where to look to find his shoes
Three small pairs
Made of hairs;
These he always wears.


He can eat
Bread and meat;
There's his mouth between his feet.
When it rains
He complains
On the window-panes.


Tongues to talk have you and I;
God has given the little fly
No such things;
So he sings
With his buzzing wings.


In the sun
Webs are spun,
What if he gets into one?
Little fly,
Ope your eye;
Spiders are near by;


And a secret I can tell
Spiders never use flies well.
Then away,
Do not stay.
Little fly, good day.


- Theodore Titian
 
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