On my knee
Has sat many a she.
Her giggle
And wriggle
Sometimes helped on by wine,
Was, nonetheless, divine.
Yet the truth
Is that youth
Turns to age
And bed springs
(As with all things)
Break
And we the stage,
Forsake.
On my knee
Has sat many a she.
Her giggle
And wriggle
Sometimes helped on by wine,
Was, nonetheless, divine.
Yet the truth
Is that youth
Turns to age
And bed springs
(As with all things)
Break
And we the stage,
Forsake.
Another great poem, Kevin. Happy Friday.
Thank you, Robbie. Happy Friday to you also. Best wishes, Kevin
Touch my soul, Kevin. Touch my soul. Splendid.
Thank you, Gabriela. I am pleased it touched your soul! All the very best to you, Kevin