Mobile
Among the crafty things I own
A mobile's one I love,
Suspended from the ceiling,
Gently twirling from above.
A moon and stag are up above,
Three pine trees hang below,
With stars, a heart, plus creatures
Of a type I do not know.
Their movement's imperceptible
At times, but with a breeze,
They rotate in a manner which
Has never failed to please.
For mobiles shouldn't be confined
To galleries or cribs.
When this one caught my eye, I knew
That I would have first dibs.
And every time I catch it shift
I smile at its design,
Delighted that I made my move
To make that mobile mine.
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