25 October 2012
There's people on your windowsill,
Though their very small,
They hide in the flower pot,
Like their not there at all,
And all the little people,
Living in the pot,
Make burrows in the soil,
It's where they hide the lot,
Lost items never found,
Hidden near the roots,
Earrings and little things,
Lie beneath the shoot,
All those small items,
that seem to disappear,
Are hidden by little people,
living very near.
People On The Windowsill • Opuss № I