By Kathryn Taylor
O RADish, O RADish, oh what do I spy
Way under your bed? It's my last piece of pie!!
And what is this lump beneath the bedspread?
Why, there is that loaf of garlic French bread!
What is that smell? Are those flies over there?
Oh, not again, a pile of un-der-wear-
Look there's a trail of crumbs across here,
Leading into the closet. What is it, my dear?
A mouse you say, made a nest in the back?
To me it looks more like a hairy pack rat.
Well, here is Dad's wallet, and brother's new ball-
Here's sister's dolly that's been missing since Fall-
Cookies and trinkets, and clothing galore
I just do not know if I can take any more!!!
I take a deep sigh and continue the search-
Oh, what would they think of us down at the church?!
I escape to a daydream, my place of denial
As I rummage on through the rest of the piles-
I sort through stale food and defecated clothes,
Found only because of my "hound-dog" good nose-
I dream of the dreams I've dreamt for this room
that my sweet little RADish turned into a tomb-
A graveyard of hopes and wishes I've had
Oh, how I wish it a quick passing fad-
I pray for the day of rebuilding my dreams
And long for the day this room is redeemed-