Ode To Bob

Ode to Bob My little bird, that bites, hard. How I love thee, anyway. You make me laugh, and cry, and believe that all things are exactly… what God made them to be. Sometimes you hide, and it drives me crazy. I should keep you in your cage. But how would that be fun? How would that let you, be you? You do not talk. You make fun of my efforts. Instead you cough, when I am sick… You mimic and make fun, but you are exactly… what God made you to be, for me. Sometimes, you hang from the high bar, there is a bell, you ring and ring. You wait to make sure, I am asleep. The song is silent, the bell is not. Your intent loud; be cheerful, you are… exactly… what God made you to be, for me.