Ooh, ooh, it's minus two
and snow hath froze
upon my nose
and feline pawprints
speck the deck.
I wrap a scarf
around my neck
and on my feet
tonight in bed
I'll wear thick socks
and on my head
a fleecy hat -
or p'raps a cat...
although the sharp claws
might descend
and my hot water bottle rend,
and I shall wake,
my slumber spent
and think I've had
an accident.
And on that note
I shall decease.
I meant desist -
and I'm not pissed!
(Oh, yes you are,
says Mr G.
How should he know?
He just drinks tea.)
I think the snow's
gone to my head.
I shink I'll shtagger
off to bed.
Just a Quickie
4 years ago
2 comments:
Pished? Shurely shome mishtake....
What with that, ahem, poem, the dream about snogging the cat AND falling out of bed it's possible that you're not pished but merely going bonkers.:-))
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