I cannot buy a brand new car, a used is what I own,
the windows leak, the roaches peek, the carburetor blown.
The house I live in is so small, you do not need porch steps at all.
Cursed only with my clumsy feet, say “sorry” to the folks I meet.
The squirrels walk in and help themselves, they eat the crackers off the shelves.
The dog grabs food out from my hand, when I look away;
and will not come when I call, no matter what I say.
The biggest disappointment (and this pushes me too far!),
There’s only apples for a snack inside the cookie jar.
I told my friend without a car of all my driving woes,
I told the homeless, tattered man my house and few clothes.
I told my amputee friend of my walking trials,
(Didn’t talk about the squirrels, they are too wild.)
I told my older, lonely friend of my stubborn dog,
I told the hungry children my sad monologue-
…of only apples for a snack inside the cookie jar.
-This poem idea came to me when my youngest daughter opened the cookie jar and complained there were only apples in there. It made me think of how important it is to always be thankful to God for everything, every gift. We have actually had squirrels break in to our house through the screen, by the way.
disue 