In honor of the birthday of Cathleen Townsend, writing buddy, I shall now post a poem that I did not write.
My sister wrote it many years ago. Many, many years ago. In Sunday school. When she was twelve, and therefore old enough to know better.
*Ahem*
Hark, the Ark,
The dog goes bark.
Thank you.
Under-Paid, Over-Enthused 
I thank you for your birthday greetings, and I am touched by the rhyme.
Now, was this a metaphysical comment, since it was in Sunday School, that even though God may be taking care you (y’know–ark), we still have to expect some rough spots (barking dogs)? And by extension, even as we get older and would prefer not to have birthdays at all, to accept the lesson of the ark and bear our aging with good grace?
Very profound, Steph. 🙂
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Well, it was my sister, not me, but I’d like to think that was on her mind at the time.
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