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    Saturday, December 08, 2007


    There's a man on my wall, he visits at night
    When all the outdoors is absent of light

    And the lanterns inside beam brightly for all
    to see where we walk, so we won't trip and fall
    over some small toy left out on the floor

    He'll watch from behind
    The coats on the door.

    They hang there for him,
    to hide in the day.

    But when darkness descends,
    he comes out all gray.

    He says not a word
    and he moves not a bit.

    But he's friendly and harmless,
    loves stories with twists

    And when time comes for reading,
    and bedtime in-tuckings

    He's right there, attentive,
    we feel kind of lucky

    That for his evening tale,
    he comes here each night

    And leaves like a whisper
    when we blow out the light.

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