There it comes
Like a pebble dropped in a still pond
Making unknown ripples
With the few stray drops of water
Flying just above the surface
  
I keep my eager net ready
The empty drum beats
I catch the notes drifting in mid-air
And with one flash of sudden glance
The organization and the categorization commence
  
Like a weaving bird
I gather the straws that come my way
And like a recreational jeweler with ready pearls
I string my thought pieces
Into a musical necklace of untried verse
  

I like to go on little walks,
I get to wear my dirty socks!
It makes me feel a little sad,
Because they hurt my feet real bad.
  
They hurt because they’re full of rocks,
My precious, little dirty socks.
I do not want to walk today,
Unless the hurting goes away.
  
I know it’s not that orthodox,
To wear these socks all full of rocks,
But they’re my dirty socks, okay?
And I collect my rocks my way.
  
Now I could either sit and pout,
Or I could take the pebbles out,
Or I could simply ride my bike,
And never take another hike,
  
Or maybe I could start to crawl,
But dirty socks, with rocks and all,
I know that we will never part,
You’re all I love, with all my heart.