FRIENDS

You and I have got to talk,
This has gone too long.
You haven't said a word to me
So I have to stop and wonder
Is it you or me who's wrong?
You can't keep thinking all the time
That I'm without a soul.
It may be hard for you to take
But it's hard on me as well.
I have feelings too, you know
I have a right to grow.
Let's set the record straight my friend.
Let's clear the air and talk.
You may be my master
But I'm the pet rock you bought.

©Copyright March 4, 2007 by Alan L. Winters

COLLECTORS

To set the record straight, dear mate
A collection can be large or small
And to be sure begins with two or more.
My brother collects no cats
Yet nine of them reside with him,
Or rather he with them.
From time to time he'll hear a knock
Upon his kitchen door
"Your owners, sir, are friends of mine
And I have come to dine
Let me in and feed me now
Or I'll pee across your floor.
Don't worry sir; I shan't stay long –
Perhaps a year or two.
I'll let you wine and dine me
But don't get in my way.
Be nice to me until that time –
I might even let you stay."

©Copyright March 14, 2007 by Alan L. Winters