Wednesday, December 16, 2020

Thirty-five:

35

Jingle smells, mingle smells

Goat cheese on my plate

Chasing sticks, through the field

Laughing all the HA HA HA

Bells on blond tails ring

Making spirits sprightly 

What fun it is to play along

an intransitive verb to-

night time is the right time for 

away in a mangering no food 

for my thoughts, the little lord 

fauntleroy down played his sweet

head south young man 

head south!


Markle~

16December2020

at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)
  • Sixty-three:
    63 When I can’t sleep I look at the moon and ponder wander. My great great grandfather James Alexander Gilmour  owned and operated a coop...
  • #107
    #107 The wind blows away. and an umbrella lasts according to its quality. Down the street an organ grinds away melodiously as Jackdaw Pete m...
  • Trolley Dodger.
    My Nana was withered at the end. A fragment of crêpe paper caught in the wind. My mother, much the same at that age had been the picture of ...