Saturday 23 November 2019

A Poem To Match The Weather

A bird was sitting in the road and I thought Oh what a waste, 
should a passing lorry shed a heavy load and turn it into paste.

But my thoughts I quashed, it wasn't squashed; it flew off to get mated
before it hit a Combined Harvester and just disintegrated 😬

Bet Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes never wrote stuff as sweet as this eh?