Come outside

where the woodlice play

Where the worms run deep

And the ghosties sleep

Where the thorns are thick

And the mud is slick

And the wood is stacked so high

Come outside and I’ll tell you what

You whisper in your dreams

When you lie in bed and

I sit real close just inches

from your head

Come outside when the sun goes down

When the wind is cold when

the rain is strong

When it starts to snow

and I’ll tell you what

you want to know.

2 responses to “Come outside

  1. anne


    your commenting system is a little dictatorial. But I like the poem!

  2. mig

    (I’d do something about the commenting system, but it’s all like, I’M SORRY DAVE, I’M AFRAID I CAN’T DO THAT)