The Caterpillar Tree, In Grandpa's Backyard

At Grandpa's old house, in the warm summer backyard,

as the sun was setting, was the beloved caterpillar tree, being played and laughed about.

We would all climb, play and touch on the growing glorious tree.

The big, fat, fuzzy caterpillars were crawling all over that thing.

It was as if the tree had glue on it and none of the caterpillars could get off.

We would stand so your eyes were at the caterpillars point of view,

 and stick our finger right in front of their soft, flimsy, little bodies, 

hoping they would crawl on to our fingers.

If they did, their sticky little body would cling to our finger, as we giggled about, not able to stand the tickling sensation. 

Don't squirm too much, or the poor thing will tumble to the grass, only to land and start slithering away again.

I'll never forget the way those caterpillars inched about, at Grandpa's old house.