What’s in the sack? What’s in the sack?
Is it some mushrooms or is it the moon?
Is it love letters or downy goosefeathers?
Or maybe the world’s most enormous balloon?
What’s in the sack? That’s all they ask me.
Could it be popcorn or marbles or books?
Is it two years’ worth of your dirty laundry,
Or the biggest ol’ meatball that’s ever been cooked?
Does anyone ask me, “Hey, when is your birthday?”
“Can you play Monopoly?” “Do you like beans?”
“What is the capital of Yugoslavia?”
Or “Who embroidered that rose on your jeans?”
No, what’s in the sack? That’s all they care about.
Is it a rock or a rolled-up giraffe?
Is it pickles or nickels or busted bicycles?
And if we guess it, will you give us half?
Do they ask where I’ve been, or how long I’ll be stayin’,
Where I’ll be goin’, or when I’ll be back,
Or “How do?” or “What’s new?” or “Hey, why are you blue?”
No, all they keep asking is, “What’s in the sack?”
“What’s in the sack?” I’m blowin’ my stack
At the next one who asks me, “What’s in the sack?”
Oh no. Not you, too!
What’s in the sack?
dievca’s wallet, phone, schedule book, lip balm, Master’s Cuffs and Straps – would you like to see?
dievca’s happy there aren’t bag checks
for the NYC subway system. 🙂
~This little worm is digging in and sleeping the morning away~
You? Have a good day.
The composite elements of dievca’s bed:
Ethan Allen, Ralph Lauren, The Company Store. Hotel Collection
by Shel Silverstein
Said the pelican to the elephant,
“I think we should marry, I do.
’Cause there’s no name that rhymes with me,
And no one else rhymes with you.”
Said the elephant to the pelican,
“There’s sense to what you’ve said,
For rhyming’s as good a reason as any
For any two to wed.”
And so the elephant wed the pelican,
And they dined upon lemons and limes,
And now they have a baby pelicant,
And everybody rhymes.
Everytime dievca wears it wrapped tight, she thinks of Shel Silverstein:
Someone listened to Shel Silverstein and has polished the Stars well because the Alice & Olivia Nelson Dress is twinkling brightly! Light for Summer or it can move you in to Winter. The stars shine all year round.
“Are Wild Strawberries really wild?
Will they scratch an adult, will they snap at a child?
Should you pet them, or let them run free where they roam?
Could they ever relax in a steam heated home?
Can they be trained to not growl at the guests?
Will a litterbox work or would they leave a mess?
Can we make them a Cowberry, herding the cows,
Or maybe a Muleberry pulling the plows,
Or maybe a Huntberry chasing the grouse,
Or maybe a Watchberry guarding the house,
And though they may curl up at your feet oh so sweetly,
Can you ever feel that you trust them completely?
Or should we make a pet out of something less scary,
Like the Domestic Prune, or the Imported Cherry,
Anyhow, you’ve been warned and I will not be blamed
If your Wild Strawberry cannot be tamed.”
― Shel Silverstein, Where the Sidewalk Ends