The Hungry Couch

Strange things are happening.

No pencil is left.

My tissue box’s empty.

I’m suspecting a theft!

Coins from my pocket

Disappear on their own.

The remote to our TV

And mother’s cell phone.

Suspicious things happen.

I worry ’bout that

‘Cuz all morning I’m calling,

Can’t find my cat.

My book was beside me

Last time I knew.

And one of my blue socks

Has gone missing too.

I know I had two parts

Of toast on my plate.

Where are my glasses?

 My watch?…now I’m late.

My sister has left

Without saying good-bye.

Then I notice a cushion

Heaving a sigh.

My couch makes a grumble.

So I lift up one end.

Everything I was missing,

Simply spills out again.

My sock and my toast

Ten pencils, twelve cents

And my cat reappears

With these crazy events.

My sister and glasses

Were inside there too.

And a friend who went wandering

One day at the zoo!

Then I hear a burp

And a sigh of relief.

My hungry couch was the trouble

The culprit, the thief.

Now, Mom put a cover

Over the couch, saving crime.

I’ll slip it a pencil

Or penny sometime.

8 thoughts on “The Hungry Couch

  1. Teresa Cleveland Wendel

    “That’s why they call it a hide-a-bed,” my son once said of our convertible sofa.

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