The Talking Outhouse
I passed by the privy one day
and heard this voice that came my way.
I looked all around and way out yonder,
stood there awhile and had to ponder.
Someone was calling my name so free,
but who in the world could it be?
the door to the house was open a mite,
I shut the door and latched it tight.
I turned my back to continue my walk,
then came the voice, "Would you like to talk?"
I couldn't believe it, how could it be?
This Old Outhouse was talking to me.
I opened the door and took a seat,
the catalog on the wall beckoned to me.
What wondrous things my eyes behold,
in the book of treasures it's pages foretold.
I know then the friendship would last,
as we talked of things left in the past.
Moral: Never throw caution to the wind.
you'll never know who you may befriend!
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