I have fingers on my feet…
I wiggle them; they are neat.
Look, I can lie on the floor
And open a cupboard door.
Grandma says they are my toes.
Look, they can reach my little nose.
They are soft and pleasantly pink…
Come on, sniff them, do they stink?
I like walking around without shoes.
If you ask me to comply, I will refuse.
Theresa Ann Moore
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fingers-on-my-feet/
