A poem for my agricultural fair entry of flowers arranged in a shoe…

This poem is for my fancy crocs, with a hole even in the undersole… under soul… blessed…

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Footloose and fancy free?

Well, that’s NOT quite the description of me.

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I DO WANDER, AND I JUST CAN’T SEEM TO “JUST BE”…

I DO THANK YOU, LORD, FOR HELPING ME.

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I travel with SUPPORTIVE SHOES,

AND THESE WELL-WORN CROCS, ARE WHAT I CHOOSE.

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So pick up your feet and go.

See what the world would show.

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But come home to roost.

A good night’s sleep will give a boost.

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As for me? New shoes, WHEEEEEEE !!!

So much MORE of the world to see…