Tap-Along

[71degrees]

Bottle’s become microphones,
grandma thinks she’s Cher;
limbo dancing nieces flail
but grandpa’s unaware.
 
Napping with a drink in hand,
his snores conduct the beat;
my voice is like a crocodile’s,
so I just move my feet.

Nothing earth shattering here, but FUN read. I am forever drawn to Shel Silverstein when I need a lift. Thanks for posting.