An ode to Franklin’s nose:

Asleep, you were as pale as a sheet
Yet as soon as Franklin was on his feet
Pink you shone, as bright as Barbie
Even though he could not far see 

Sometimes in the night, you'd touch my face
It was wet and pulled me out of dream space
You'd oft be lifted up, in askance or curiosity
Yet none could question thy fearful symmetry 

The central feature of a face so kind
No other beast was ever so fine
Having followed many a scent
You have no idea what you meant

Thank you for indulging my poor poetry.

Love,

Anna and Garrett