The Floor And The Ceiling Poem

Who could be doubting.

The floor and the ceiling poem.

Books to the ceiling books to the sky my piles of books are a mile high. Up to the ceiling. Up to the ceiling is wonderful fun. Warm yellow light shining through cracks in the ceiling laying on the floor among the daisies and breathing in the cool night air.

The floor and the ceiling were happy together in a quaint little house on the outskirts of town with the floor looking up and the ceiling looking down. The kids drop bags of cannonballs onto the floor then apparently dragging several sledgehammers each stampede into the kitchen. And down to the floor hear him now squealing. Laughing and shouting away up he cries.

Up to the ceiling and down to the floor hear him now squealing and calling for more. I have not yet experienced a full stack of books that reaches the ceiling because it makes reading them harder. Laughing and shouting away up he cries. I ll have a long beard by the time i read them.

At 7 00 am alarm goes off boom madame gets out of bed puts on her deep sea divers boots and stomps across my ceiling to megaphone the kids awake. Only a laddie but bigger than brother. Bigger than daddy and bigger than mother. Laughing and shouting edgar albert guest up to the ceiling.

Books to the ceiling by arnold lobel. Who could be doubting the love in his eyes. How i need them. And calling for more.