Beaver

A silly poem about an imaginary pet, the beaver

There are things one might never understand,
Like the stars in the sky, or a bird in the hand
But what I just can’t seem to get
Is why my beaver only sits.
He’s not interested in wood
Scared of water, he can’t swim too good.
All he does is watch TV,
Sit around and gripe at me
Is it my fault he’s so lazy
He hates the sun
And won’t go out unless its hazy
Why is it my Beaver only sits
This is something I might never get.

Elizabeth S. Tyree