Let me… (The end).

Let me…” I began again But was interrupted then, “Twig? Ha-ha! Well-well. Why not? It can be a fishing rod. I feel like on a frying-pan, And the wing can be a fan. You said ‘wind’! The day is hot: A hot wind is like a shot! Well, instead of it and leaves I’d prefer a cooling breeze. What a fool you are to say Of more beams on this bright day! But I’d like to have a stream To jump in and have a swim. Meadows can comfort me If I find a good big tree. And its shadow not you Is much better and will do. I can’t say I will like you In my bed or in the loo!” When I whispered, “Eiderdown,” She said, “Yes! You’re a clown.” Then she added, “And a noodle.” And I cried, “You’re a poodle!!!” At that moment I forgot That I liked her locks a lot. “It’s my spade!” I heard my shout, “Give it back! You! Stupid cow!” “Oops! I’m sorry…” was too late When she hit me with my spade. “It’s my sand-box” was exhaled. The next day she played with Dave.