I have this older sister,
Her name is not like mine.
You can often see her serving coffee
To eager people waiting in line.
She lives in the same town as me,
But apartments we do not share.
I want to go on the Ferris Wheel-
But she doesn’t like the fair.
She likes owls and gnomes and things
Like garden fairies galore;
When I tell her about the mushroom festival
She runs right out the door.
She runs and runs and runs and runs
To celebrate the joy;
I tell her time and time again
That mushrooms are not toys.
She has two cats that live with her,
I have only one.
This poem about my sister
Is just about, almost, done.
I hope you like this blog I’ve written
Even though it is not about you;
I love my sister quite dearly,
And a Happy BEDA to you too.