I’ve noticed that I’m stuck in the good company of poets who only visit me when I have a poem up my sleeve or somewhere, preferably on Dverse.  How did this happen?  What happened to the great population of octogenarians  who have nothing better to do than fiddle with  computer keys. Maybe they’re playing piano keys instead? Sorry, count me out. Musician I’m not, just as I’m not  lot of things….Republican, Spanish-speaking,  extrovert, yankee….I could go on and on, literally.  But you knew that, didn’t you!  So, does that mean you’re a bored curious poet just dropping by to see what I’m up to?  If so, welcome. If not, double welcome!                                                                                                                                                                                       Edith Smith     http://www.Butterfly-Fun-Fact.com

THE YELLOW AND PURPLE CATERPILLAR

                                                                                                            (I’ve already gotten myself in trouble–killer?)…

Reminds me of Phyllis Diller

(especially due to her last name)

…this killer caterpillar–not caterpillar killer (you note the difference?)

was devouring an innocent leaf one night

when he saw an owl

also on the prowl.

Our killer said nnnnnnnnnnnnf

and the owl replied WHO?

Impatient, our killer yelled nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnf!!!

The owl on the prowl, you see,

not unlike you and me,

didn’t like sass so

bit him in the ass, leaving

only a purple caterpillar.