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Ode to Bob

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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.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Date: 12/2/2019 3:20:00 AM
##You wait to make sure, I am asleep.## Cute poem.. ##The song is silent, the bell is not.## Beautiful lines..
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Date: 12/1/2019 8:12:00 PM
'Hope is the thing with feathers...' as Emily Dickinson penned it... That would make your title for this one: Bob Hope! Smiles, Gershon
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Date: 12/1/2019 5:54:00 PM
Hello Ann Foster, you know you love that bird. He keeps you on your toes. Have a nice evening my friend.
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