One Old Crow

Once upon a midnight breeze
As I prayed upon my knees
I heard a quaint little sneeze
“Excuse me, sir, if you please,”
Echoed through the hollow ease
“I’ll trade a feather for your hanky please.”

“I have one yes, covered in grease,”
(I found some socks) “but please take these.”
The old crow came way down low
Surprised by how hard the wind would blow
Examined a sock and began to blow.

How his nose tortured him so.
It’s so cold his poor nose began to glow
Red from cold; it was certainly 30 below.

“Come in the house, no need to be out.
I know a young mouse
Who’s beautiful spouse
Can make a stew
Just for you
To re-darken the hue
Of you poor little nose and blue toes too.”

Image by Charles Van Sandwyk