The Sofa and the Lamb
In a quiet field, a lone sofa stood,
abandoned, dirty and useless- no good.
It wasn’t old or broken or torn in any way,
Only slightly crazy with too many things to say.
It wished for a friend upon the shooting stars.
Only to be splattered by the dirt of passing cars.
It lent its seats to many butts, old and young, pretty and shrewd.
Never to be thanked, how wrong- so rude.
‘Sofa’ they called it, under the big orange tree.
Many times it wished for moving feet to run free.
But there it stood, still and green and bored.
Until a little baby sheep strayed from its horde.
The Lamb and the Sofa both shared a blink.
The little Lamb frowned, “You smell of earth and wet and stink.”
“Excuse you my dear but where are you from?”
Offended she was at the Lam’s snooty hum.
“I come from a land far, far away”
“Well then better back that way you are to stray”
“I came for the peaches” the little Lamb said
“But I have only citrus here above my head?”
The sun was setting and the night sky began to peek.
“Perhaps then you can lend me a tiny place to sleep?”
“Here upon my cushions is a spot nice and warm.”
“You are awfully nice. I will stay until dawn.”
So there in the field the green sofa went to sleep
Tiny little lamb curled on her seat.
Fake peaches above and grass down below.
They both found a friend, little did they know.
@sofia1926 I am this way because of you. You are to blame entirely.
