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By Josie Whitehead

Searching For the . . .

There is no smell to what I seek,
      And eat it?  No, you can’t.
Touch it?  No, you can’t do this
      And it’s not a tree or plant.

It’s not an animal, for sure,
      And it’s also not a fish.
I might say that I want this thing,
      But not served on a dish.

You cannot see it when you look,
     But search for it? – Perhaps.
Sometimes it's quite hard to find,
     Though can be caught by traps.

Your Mum or Dad may search for this.
      Is the clue upon your face?
Yes!  It’s going red – a lie’s been told?
     Oh you’re really in disgrace.

   Answer? Searching for . . .  The Truth.

Copyright on all my poems

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