(Poem 146 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

What a happy little monster
this fellow turned out to be,
full of giggles and laughter,
buzzing around like a bee.

Each of his ample pockets
is stuffed full of lumpy rocks.
He also collects keys that no
longer can find their locks.

He makes friends with critters
whether they can talk or not;
no being is too big, too small,
too cold, or ever too hot.

Just as a joke he tried once
to make an angry, scary face,
but he couldn’t hold it together
and grinned in uppercase.

@Home Studio – 146^th poem of the year