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Sam
-- by Dorothy Costello -- Copyright 1998 -- DOT.COS@worldnet.att.net

Sometimes, I wish that I were Sam
So I could hear how great I am
If I could be Sam for a day,
I'd get to go outside and play.

Pop would then throw me a ball
I'd run and catch it, then he'd call
Me back to him for a treat,
Like all the ice cream I could eat.

Sometimes, I'd crawl up on his lap
And lie there while we take a nap.
He'd feed me goodies from his plate.
He'd treat me like his own soul-mate.

He'd scratch my head behind my ear
And pat me on my furry rear.
At night, I'd jump up on his bed,
"Cause I'm his dear Samoyed.


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