A Free Range Ditty
(to be read to the tune of Papa was a rolling stone)
Papa was a rolling egg
Wherever he laid a hen chicks were made
And when he flied-
The coop you know was left undone.
Copyright © Maureen McGreavy The Insolent Rib | Year Posted 2018
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment