Classic Poem

Sun in a warm streak
Striping the plush:
Catch breath, hold finger tight:
All delight hush.

Dance, small grey thing
Sleek in the warm sun:
Roll around, to this, to that,
—Rare wormy fun!

Hot sun applauds thee:
Warm fingers press
To wake the small life within
Thy rotund dress.

Alack! Have years in cupboard,
In chill and dark,
Stifled thy discontent?
Snufft thy spark?

Liest thou stark, stiff,
There in thy bed?
Weep then a dirge for him:
Poor Bean's dead!