A Very Unusual Poppletoff Thing Poem by Richard D Remler

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On the top of that
Poppletoff Tree
Is a Twing,
A very unusual
Poppletoff thing.

And it's watching us
Watch it
With big
Watchful eyes,
Through its
Clever, and
Intricate
Patchwork
Disguise.

Oh, it'll flutter a wing
If it's sure
We can't see.
And it'll plume out
Its feathers quite
Beautifully.
But its eyes never move
In their eve after glow~
Like silhouette lanterns
Haunting a late
August snow.

They never do blink,
Never sigh, Never wink.
Their eyes never fade,
Never pause, Never shrink.
It ever so watches
The we that we are.
So cautious it knows
If we're near,
Or quite far.

And it only rests
When we're far, far away.
When it can't hear
The empty odd things
That we say.
When the evening draws in,
And the moon rises high,
When the crickets play strings
To the odd firefly.

Only then will it nestle
Within its soft bed,
Pull up the covers
And lay down its head.
There it will rest
In the quiet that be,
All safe in the sound
Of it's Poppletoff Tree.



Copyright © MMXV Richard D. Remler


**A Children's Tale**

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