I swear upon my mother’s grave
I only speak the truth:
You ask, Where is your piece of cake?
I say, There’s cake? Forsooth!
I just came in and just sat down
With just this tray of tea.
There’s camomile and peppermint
And even oolong, see?
You look at me a bit askance
But sit down anyway,
And then quite casually remark
A ghost would like her tray.
- Comment
- Reblog
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
Reowr 
rich words mate. this is artfully intriguing.
Hehe just felt like having a little fun. 🙂
Forsooth? Methinks thou tarry’st with our daliances, marry.
Me thinks, you thinks, we all thinks with our shrinks.
Clever and put a smile on my face! 🙂
Glad you liked it! 🙂
😉