Shaggyhair my threadbare friend
Just sits there with some love to share,
He hugs this secret to his heart
The mystery of life...
How his appeal, is such a work of art.
Does he sit, or does he settle
Who composes all his charming calm repose,
How does he beguile to colonize
a homestead,
Why is he the ally that I chose.
Could I crave his gentle wise disposition
To feel more brave,
Does arranging him make a home feel whole,
Is his pacifying presence
Essential to sedate my soul.
How can one, so still, hold this
Perception, sentiment, and sincere expression
But be lost and needy too,
"Take me to your heart"
Why does he make such an impression.
What does he use to engineer
This squirming right into our heart affection,
Is it the softness to the touch,
"Cuddle me now"
Or does he offer some protection.
Is it a call back to a happy childhood
When all felt sweet and safe,
Does Shaggyhair hold tight the memories
"I've seen everything"
Of a time of simple faith.
Maybe he combines the wild we crave
With tenderness we love,
But he will never ever go away,
Staying with us forever
Like our Father up above.
Is it in those cocked ears, locked up
With a welcome never worn,
Or in that cuddly tum he's allowed
To innocently show off to all,
Like the cute allure of a baby's form.
But, he merely blinks at us with that winsome smile
A twinkle in his eye,
His arrms outstretched like Jesus
"Just hold me close,
as your own alibi"
He whispers with the softest sigh.
