the giggles that tickle
the snickers that ickle
complicitly picking apart
my complacent hush
the sweets that abound
tiny feet that surround me
bravely rushing o’er
flowers and brush
much more to be found
through the door they do bound
there must be some
hidden inside as well
there’s never enough
of this chocolatey stuff
for my feral weans
racing pell mell
George Ellington 